The Cure
by Kelenloth
Summary: After killing Dracula, Van Helsing accidentally spreads the curse of the Werewolf to Anna, and now must fight to find more of the cure before the next full moon. But far must he go to save her? Slightly A/U. T for violence and frightening images.
1. Chapter 1

Happy All Hallows Eve, folks. This is my first VH fic and I thought it a proper day to post it. I've got 8 chapters written so far but I'm not done yet, so I might keep the posting a little spread out. But expect the next one withing a few days. I may end up altering the title as well. Thanks for reading ~ Kel

* * *

"For God." She whispered, tightening her grip on the syringe in her hand. With one last deep breath, she turned the corner to face the monster. "VAN HELSING!" She called.

With a low growl, the huge beast turned to face her, stepping away from the shriveled body of his defeated foe. He roared loudly as he pounced upon her.

"_Aahh!_" Her panicked scream echoed sharply in the tall chamber as the beast caught her, flying through the air. Both of them were tossed backwards and dashed on the floor.

They landed together, in what might be the last few seconds of her life, and within a moment, he sunk his teeth deep into her flesh. With a last effort, she thrust her hand up; jabbing him in the stomach with the syringe and praying the cure would take effect quickly.

All she had wanted was to help.

"God, forgive me." A small voice was heard behind him, as Carl came up to do as he was bidden, and take out the beast once and for all.

Lifting his head at the sound of footsteps, the monster roared as he turned around, grabbing Carl's hand and staying it. The friar froze in fear as the werewolf's huge maw opened in another great roar. He looked down to see the syringe, now drained, that had held the cure for the werewolf's curse. The beast followed his gaze. Reaching down, his huge hand plucked out the needle quickly, as the cure began to take effect.

Regaining the sanity of his human mind, Van Helsing turned back to look down on his last kill.

"She…." Carl stumbled back, lowering his silver spike. "She is dead!" he called in disbelief.

"No." Van Helsing barked, turning to her. "No!" He shouted again, with a howl. He had not killed her. He couldn't have. He had bitten her in the gut, not the neck. No! She should have lived! It was not a bite meant to kill; it was a bite only to spread the curse. That was his body's natural reaction; to injure only, not to kill.

As his body reshaped itself slowly into a man, he lifted his hand to his maw; wiping Anna's blood from his own lips. He stood stock still in fear and dread, as he looked down to her bloodied form.

"No…" Carl echoed, as he approached the princess' still body. He placed a hand under her jaw. "No… She... She is alive!"

"What?" Van Helsing knelt beside her immediately.

Carl worked quickly now. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out his emergency medical supplies. He was no doctor, or at least not of medicine, but when The Order had told him to keep Van Helsing alive, he had packed the few things he thought would be useful. He wrapped Anna quickly in a large bandage in an attempt to stopping the bleeding, and then worked to revive her.

Above them, the dark clouds drifted in front of the moon: Blocking its haunting light.

"Anna…" Van Helsing whispered; his voice like one summoning and praying to be answered. His heart skipped a beat as she stirred, ever so slightly. He took her gently in his arms. What had he done?

"V-Van… Helsing?" Her feeble voice questioned, with a cough. "What... Happened?" She asked, her head spinning in odd pain and confusion.

"You were… I mean I…" Van Helsing was lost for words, as the reality of what actually happened began to truly sink in.

"You were bitten by a werewolf." Carl said for him, quite casually.

Anna's eyes widened, looking down to her bandaged wound, and then up to Van Helsing, her mouth opened in slight horror at the blood that stained his mouth.

Raising his hand to his mouth once more, Van Helsing felt the wet touch of Anna's blood again. The sickening taste tainted his mouth, and stained his hand and chin. He stared down at his bloodied hand in shocked horror. What had he done? "I… I'm... Sorry." He said faintly, not able to look up and meet Anna's gaze.

Closing his eyes and turning away, he looked down at the empty vial in his hand. They needed more of the antidote. He wiped his chin, still angry with himself, and turned back to them slowly. "Was there any more of this?" He looked to Carl, still not able to meet Anna's gaze.

Carl shook his head. "We did not see any. There was no need for any more then one batch, with only one Werewolf; Velkan."

"Could you make more?" Van Helsing asked quickly. He then went to collect his ripped shirt and torn pants, grabbing a new pair from Carl's pack. He picked up his discarded overcoat and wrapped himself with it.

"Well, I… I don't know; Dracula was probably the only one who knew the secret." Carl said hesitantly. He took the syringe in his hands and looked it over. There was a tiny bit of the red liquid still contained inside the vial. "I'll see what I can do. First we have to know what the stuff is." He began at once to look around the lab. All the equipment seemed to be for the Frankenstein experiment. Walking around the huge conductor in the middle of the room, he looked for anything that might have to do with chemicals, rather than electricity. There was nothing there.

"Try the Library." Anna suggested, sitting up and placing her hand on her wound, she then stood to her feet, her body finding a strange strength to overcome her wound. Unbeknownst to her, it was truly the werewolf venom in her starting to take its first effect, by keeping her alive.

Carl nodded, grabbed a torch, and headed out the door he had come. He had passed what looked to be a library on the way in, but paid it little heed in the race to save Van Helsing.

As Carl left, Van Helsing finally found the strength to face Anna.

"I'm sorry." He said again, his voice still shaking slightly. He had never felt this way before. Or at least not that he remembered. All his life, he had felt looked down upon, hunted even. He knew others thought that what he did was wrong. But always, he knew that it was right. But now- now he had done something truly wrong. Something he thought to be beyond forgiveness. He had not been strong enough to control himself.

'_Don't be late._' He remembered telling Anna. She had not been late. It was he who had not been ready. He looked down to the bloodied bandages that wrapped her midsection once more. The guilt slowly wore on his tired heart, as he looked her over again. But it was thrown into a strange confusion as he at last saw her face.

"Gabriel Van Helsing." She addressed him with a strange smile. She stepped closer to him, looking up to his sad, guilt-laden face. His brow knotted, looking down at the woman to whom he had involuntarily given a horrible, possibly incurable curse, when all she had wanted was to cure him of the same.

In the next moment, his eyes opened wide in surprise, as she leaned up to him, wrapping her arms about his neck, and kissed him.

"Wha-?" Van Helsing almost pulled away in surprise. But he let the moment last a bit longer. He did not understand her actions, but they were certainly not ones to be condemned.

"Thank you." She said as she pulled away.

"What?" He asked at last, bewilderment written all over his face.

"For saving my family." She said, still smiling warmly at him.

"But… I…" Van Helsing looked down to the bloodied bandages once more.

"It's alright." She told him. "But my family has been saved. Dracula is vanquished. If this is the price, so be it. It is less then what my brother paid."

"But…" Van Helsing could only continue to stare. "No." He objected at last. "No, I have to right this." He said, grabbing her arm. "Please, for once, let me right my wrongs."

She nodded, knowing he would want as much. He truly was a holy man, not a murderer. Somehow, she had known it all along, no matter what he had said.

At that moment, Carl came walking back in. He held a lantern in one hand, and a very large book in the other. "This was sitting out on the table!" He said excitedly, paying no mind to whatever conversation he might have missed. All he knew was that they had to help Anna.

Pushing over some broken instruments from Dracula's electrical experiments, he laid the book on the table and began to translate the Latin.

-

"_If curse of wolf_

_And demon form_

_Ever dare to join their might._

_-  
_

_Only then_

_May man be cured_

_Of moon's bright haunting light._

-

_When beast bites beast,_

_And blood is drawn,_

_And a demon loose the fight_

-

_Then, though poisoned_

_The beast fights on_

_To soon reward his plight._

-

_When blood through silver_

_Is drawn and changed_

_The cure will be made right_

-

_And as a man_

_He'll wander free_

_All throughout the night."_

-

"What is that supposed to mean?" Van Helsing asked, leaning over the age-old book, and looking over the intricately written words.

"Well…" Said Carl, unsurely. "My best guess is this: The cure is contained in the blood of a werewolf. But not any werewolf: A werewolf who has been bitten by a vampire." He said, looking up to Anna and Van Helsing, whose eyes widened at his words. "Yes, that's right. When a werewolf is submitted to vampire venom. If it is not a fatal wound, the wolf can fight the vampire poison off, unlike a normal man. When this happens, he most likely creates some sort of anti-venom, and this, when drawn through the wolf's blood by silver- like this silver needle-" He held up the syringe Van Helsing had been stabbed with "And then injected back through silver, changes structure, fighting off instead the poison of the werewolf, and curing the beast!" He told them, still very exited about the whole tale.

"_If curse of wolf and demon form ever dare to join their might..." _Van Helsing repeated, leaning over the Latin words. "So you need the power of both beings."

Carl nodded.

"So we need a werewolf. A living one. And we need a vampire to bite him." Van Helsing mused, as Carl simply nodded again. "Are there any vampires left? We killed Dracula." The situation was doubtful.

"Why yes." Carl said. The words came as a surprise to the others in the room. "There were several who followed Dracula's example, but did not truly rely on him. Why do you think there are such stories told throughout Europe? Or throughout the world!?" Carl laughed slightly. When he said that he knew about Vampires because he had read about them, he meant it.

"Where is the closest one to Transylvania now?" Van Helsing asked eagerly.

"Uuhh… The closest reports of any vampire besides Dracula or his brides would probably be in… Poland, I guess. Yes, it seems there were several reports in the mountains of Poland. Most of the other reports did have to do with Dracula." Carl informed him, digging deep into the old vaults of him memory.

"Then I shall go there." Anna spoke up at last, herself stepping forward to look over the large book.

"No." Van Helsing stopped her, grabbing her arm. He did not really wish to stop her from looking at the book, but from going. "No, do not risk yourself like that." He said. "This was my err. I shall right it."

"Van Helsing…" Anna began to protest.

"Please." Van Helsing finished.

Anna rolled her eyes. It was just like a man to think he could and should do everything by himself.

"No." She said; it was her turn to do the stopping. "You cannot do this alone."

At that moment, the clouds parted before the moon; letting in its light once more.

Anna stifled a cry; her hand going to her still fresh wound, she almost fell to the ground, and would have; had not Van Helsing caught her.

The poison had not yet taken hold, and would not for a full moon cycle, but even now it pained her to be in the light of a full moon.

"Please." He said again, helping her to stand back up. "Do not risk yourself so."

Anna shook her head. She could not let him go through like this. But... When he spoke to her like that, she almost felt like it was impossible to argue. In the end, she seemed to know, he would win. She remembered last time she had insisted on such a thing. He had used some kind of odd spray to knock her unconscious. She had woken up hours later. She had no doubt in her mind that he would do it again if he had to.

"Alright…" She said at last, still shaking her head. "But if we do not hear from you, I will follow." She said firmly. Van Helsing nodded. He knew she would. He smiled at her for letting him at least set out on his own, though.

"There is no time to loose." He said quickly, as he put has hat back on his head.

"May God go with you." Said Anna.

"He will." Van Helsing replied with a smile. "Carl." He then turned to the friar, and whispered to him. "Please, see that nothing happens to her. When the moon comes, I fear what might occur. If she looses control, please, find a way to contact me." He said.

Carl nodded, looking to his old friend. Once again, it was his turn to stay behind. But he liked it that way. "We shall pray for you, Van Helsing." He said, and was thanked by a small smile. "But for goodness sake, go change pants!" Carl added with a laugh.

Van Helsing could not help laughing as well. "Right." He said with a smile, before setting out on what might be the last adventure of his life,


	2. Chapter 2

Laying his hand on the strange, smooth surface of the ice wall, Van Helsing felt no give in what he knew to be a door; a portal to the Valerious Manor back in Transylvania.

Now fully clothed, he stood outside Dracula's huge castle in the snow, unsure of how to even start on his journey. If this door were any kind of sign, this journey would not go well.

The door had been easy enough to open from the other side. But it was not meant to be opened from this side. It was meant to seal Dracula in. And anyone who associated with him.

"In the Name of God, open this door!" Van Helsing commanded. The door did not move. "Ah!" He cried out, instead, looking down at his right hand. His ring finger felt as if it were on fire! Looking down, he saw the dark ring of Dracula still on his hand.

Immediately upon seeing the symbol on it; that of a strange dragon, he ripped the ring off his finger and threw it into the snow, where is sizzled quietly for a moment before being smothered with the cold.

As the ring left him, he seemed almost to find new strength and power.

"In the name of God! Open this door!" He called again. This time something did happen.

A strange sound, like slowly cracking ice, came from the door. Although it did not change at all by sight. Van Helsing lifted his hand towards it, half-hesitant to touch what might still be just an ice wall.

In the end, he had to trust that it was, in fact, a door, and thrust his hand inside.

Pushing through ice like it were water, Van Helsing's hand disappeared into the wall. He smiled, and then walked forward; bringing the rest of his body though the door. It had worked. He was in Romania again.

Time to get to work.

Walking through the dark halls of the Valerious manner, Van Helsing stopped by a large cabinet and opened it with a smile. He did not know much about this house, but he knew where the ammunition was kept.

He took the liberty of refilling both of his pistols, loading them each with six silver bullets. He then took another package of the precious shot and put it into his pack. Sitting in an oversized chair near by, he looked through what was left of his supplies. He had some food left, but not much. He would buy more from the market in the morning. A roll of bandages was tucked far down in the bag, but for the most part it was empty. The silver stake and crucifix Carl had packed were gone. He laughed as he pulled out a necklace of garlic. It had not done any good either.

Tossing it aside, he then stood up and went toward what he hoped was the front door.

The night was cool and quiet as he stepped out of the manor. He stood a ways up the hill from the town he and Carl had first come to, in northern Transylvania. The small town was surrounded by mountains on two sides, and forest on the others. Across the valley from him stood the Castle Frankenstein, but he looked past it.

Gazing upon the northern mountains, he knew he would have to cross them sooner or later. He would have to get to Poland. But first, he would have to find a werewolf. He looked up to the full moon, smiling slightly that it no longer affected him. He then frowned, remembering how Anna had cringed and almost fallen in its light.

He could not let her fall a victim to this horrible curse.

When they had first encountered Velkan as a werewolf, Anna had explained to him that every full moon, the people of that town set out to catch a werewolf. There were many wolves that lived in the forest, and even though the werewolf attacks were not very consistent, the people never knew if all the werewolves were gone or not. It was a tradition going back several ages.

Normally, these hunting trips ended without incident; without sight or sound of any monstrous beast. But recently, the activity on such nights had grown more and more troublesome. The people's tactics had changed. The day Velkan was bitten was the first time they had ever tested their most recent design.

Van Helsing set out down the hill towards the moonlit town and darkened forest beyond.

The town was quiet. Here and there a candle burned; In the church the small stained glass windows glowed oddly, assisted by the candles inside. But for the most part, everything was very quiet, very still.

The livestock went about their quiet way, most of them settled down for the night. He did not know weather it was always like this, or only under a full moon, but it all seemed very… Creepy.

The large well in the middle of the town seemed as the open maw of a beast; with who-knows-what ready to jump out without a moments notice. Van Helsing inhaled deeply, a small shudder running up his spine as his grip tightened on his crossbow.

Shaking his head, he laughed softly; even that noise seeming too loud for the quiet town. He needed to calm down. He had seen a lot in the past few days, and even this town seemed more homely then where he had been. He continued on slowly past the dark shapes of tall houses until he reached the other side of the small town. The dark forest was about a bowshot from the edge of town, but even now it seemed to loom oddly over him.

Tall evergreens and the bare frames of other trees stood over him as he walked cautiously into the wood. The ground, for the most part, was clear of underbrush, at least around the road, but littered with a thick covering of damp needles and dead leaves. The fog in this wood never seemed to clear, and at parts even in broad daylight, light barely seemed able to penetrate the forest at all. He had discovered all of this on his last journey through, in attempt to reach Rome.

He remembered all too well his last trip into the dark woods of Transylvania. He had driven a carriage drawn by six horses, each strong and fast. But they had been set upon, by both demon and beast. That was when Velkan had died. But only after passing on his curse.

Van Helsing put a hand up to his old wound, as he remembered the odd pain he had felt that night. All touch of the curse was now lifted, but he could still feel Valkan's jaws in his flesh. He cringed, remembering that he had done the same to Anna.

There would be no delaying now. He had to hurry if he was to save her.

Grasping his weapon, he entered the forest at last.

-- -- --

The forest was quiet. Too quiet. The only sound Van Helsing could hear was his own steps on the leaf littered ground, his own breath in the cold night air, and the beating of his own heart. It had been like this for a while now, he supposed, though in truth, the silence had crept slowly upon him. Now he seemed lost in it.

Overhead, the dark cry of a black crow sounded loudly. Van Helsing almost jumped. He had to calm down. Walking forward a few more paces into the night, he thought he heard a sound behind him.

Turning swiftly, he saw nothing. He stood there for a few more moments, simply watching.

Something moved in the trees. He looked up, his eyes widening in sudden fear of what he could not see.

_*Bang!*_

A shot rang out through the woods.

"Hey!" Van Helsing shouted in surprise, ducking down, his immediate reaction was to raise his weapon at the new threat, ducking behind the nearest tree.

"Who goes there!?" A strong voice called out from the tree that had shot at him. It seemed a very loud call in the once quiet night, but after the starling gunshot, it seemed a mere whisper.

Coming out from behind his tree, Van Helsing rested his crossbow on his shoulder and smiled slightly, somewhat smugly.

The familiar pose, accompanied by his hat and overall appearance, even in the night, was recognized by the hunters. "It's the vampire slayer!" He heard one voice say.

"Greetings." He said to them, seeing that they did indeed recognize him. The last few encounters he had had with these men, they had wanted to kill him. But since the vampires, who now lay dead, had not attacked in several weeks, they seemed to have become much happier with him in his absence.

"Come over here." The man that had shot at him whispered, lowering himself down out of his tree. Van Helsing walked slowly over to the tree, and, as the man motioned him up, grabbed the lowest branch and began to hoist himself up.

"I'm sorry." The man said. He was a very young man, just barely old enough to grow the small beard he sported. "I thought you were… well…"

"A Werewolf?" Van Helsing asked with a smile. The lad had no idea how close to the truth he was. The boy nodded hesitantly, and looked over to another man who sat up in the same tree.

"It's, uh… Van… uh…" The older man started, rubbing his bearded chin

"Van Helsing." The young man told him.

"Oh yes." He said with a nod. "Van Helsing, right? What you doin' here? We've not seen you ner Anna since three nights ago!" He said, his voice thick with accent.

"I'm looking for a Werewolf." Van Helsing told him flatly.

A broad smile came to the man's face, showing his strange smile; he was missing a few teeth, and had one metal tooth already in his mouth. "So are we." He said.

Van Helsing looked down to the small clearing below them. There was a post there, and tied to it stood a large female deer. The doe looked around cautiously, seeming to know something was wrong.

All around the clearing, Van Helsing could barley see shapes of men in the trees, outlined by the faint moonlight. He would not have seen them unless they were pointed out to him. The men were good hunters. But he questioned their bait.

"Have you seen anything tonight?" He asked in a low whisper. The older man simply shook his head. "Do you always use deer to lure them?" Van Helsing asked.

"Well… We have for the past few times." He said. "See normally we only go out when it's a full moon, like tonight. But there've been several reports of Werewolves- more than normal... This is our third try this month. And to answer yer question, we've been using deer for the past few tries now... After what happened to Velkan, we didn't want to risk it again." He said.

Van Helsing nodded. Anna had told him what had happened that horrible day. Velkan had been playing bait, and something had gone wrong. The Werewolf had escaped their grasp. Velkan had sacrificed himself in Anna's place. They all thought he had died, until he showed up, himself turned monster, in the Valerious manner.

"Why do you seek the werewolf?" The young man sitting beside Van Helsing asked cautiously.

"I… Need it…" Van Helsing did not think now a good time to explain everything. "I need a werewolf. Alive." He said.

Both of the men with him were shocked.

"Ha ha! Alive?!" The older man questioned. "What use is any such beast _alive_?" He asked. "It's too dangerous! The only good werewolf is a dead werewolf!"

Van Helsing set his jaw. He really did not want to have to explain everything like this. "I need it alive." He said simply.

"We'll you'll not catch it in a trap like this one." The man said, his laughter stopping, as he saw the serious, stern look in Van Helsing's eyes. "You'd need a trap like the one Velkan used. Closest one is about a half a mile, that way." The man raised his hand to point in a southeasterly direction. "But you can't go it alone. That'd be certain death, that would." He said.

Van Helsing nodded, thinking it over. "Would you help me?" he asked.

"What?" The man's brow knotted. He still did not understand why any man would risk himself to catch a werewolf and keep it alive.

"Would you or any of your men be willing to help me capture it?" Van Helsing asked again. "I'd be the bait." He added.

The old man set his jaw in thought, looking around uncertainly. He looked to the young boy who sat next to them.

"…I would." The boy said softly. Van Helsing smiled.

The old man nodded, at last. "Tomorrow night." He said. "I'll see if any of my boys'll come."

"We'de best get some rest, then." Van Helsing said, putting away his crossbow at last.

"Aye." Said the man. "We'll call it a night."

-- -- --

"Come out, come out, wherever you are…" Van Helsing whispered under his breath.

There was no answer.

The moon shone high above them, looking still to be full- Van Helsing knew it was not, but it did not matter. The wolves still prowled this wood.

He stood on the ground in the middle of a tiny clearing; the ground was covered densely in leaves. To his back was a large post. His hands were bound to it above his head by loose ropes. Under his feet, however, was where the real trap hid. He stood on a huge trap door.; under it was a large metal cage, and a mechanism that would help capture the werewolf. All they had to do was get the beast next to the post.

But such a task was easier said then done. And the worst part was the waiting. The long hours of darkness, unsure weather a wolf would come or not.

In truth, Van Helsing was almost sure the beasts would come, eventually. The previous night, he had spotted several signs of them before he meet their hunters. And on the way to this trap, he had found more. Unbeknownst to the hunters, he himself had left a mark in the woods. Van Helsing had cut himself lightly on the wrist, and left marks; scents and stains for the wolves to find. To let them know that a wounded human was close by. To draw them into the trap.

He had bandaged it before being tied to the post, but the bandage was now rubbing off, as he stood, growing slightly more anxious against the post. They had been there for hours now, without sight, sound, or smell of their prey. And still they waited.

Van Helsing looked idly up at those in their party; a small group of men hiding in the trees above him. They were his escape route. They would pull him out when the beast came for him, and spring the trap. Ordinarily, they had a bigger party; the more firepower, the better a chance at a killing shot. But Van Helsing wanted the werewolf alive. So only those needed to work the cage-trap were present.

The dark forest was filled once more with a heavy fog, and lit only by the moon and stars. Every now and again, one could hear the call of birds, or other forest creatures, but nothing really startled Van Helsing any more. He had been standing there far to long for any hint of fear to remain.

Then again… What was that? His head snapped to the right, as the bushed rustled oddly.

A low growl came from the dark underbrush.

_Yes!_ Van Helsing smiled. At last. His prey had come. "Come on." He whispered.

The next few moments were thrown into chaos. Gasps were heard from the trees above, as a huge, monstrous beast leapt high out of the shadows.

"Jump!" One of the men called from the trees, seeing Van Helsing's hesitance.

Ignoring the call, Van Helsing instead pulled his hands quickly out of the loose rope that he had been holding on to. Ducking down, he rolled forward, under the pouncing beast, and let the wolf jump instead to the post.

Drawing swiftly his twin tojo blades from his sleeve, he quickly powered the two buzz saws, ready to force the wolf into position.

"Cut the rope!" He head a cry. The werewolf leapt at him.

"No you don't!" Van Helsing yelled, swiping his hand forward, his blade caught the beast in the shoulder, swiftly drawing red blood. He looked up quickly to the rope system in the trees above. The trap had been triggered, but the wolf was not in position. "Come on!" he yelled to the beast, as he stood again in his original position by the post, now defying his foe.

"Van Helsing!" he heard the young man from last night call to him in panic.

The beast leapt forward. Van Helsing watched as the ropes above him went to their quick work. Pulling taught the hidden ropes under the leaves, they sprung the trap under his feet.

As the werewolf made quick contact with the ground, it gave out from under him.

"Woah!" Van Helsing's call joined the wolf's own howl of surprise, as they both fell down into the hidden pit.

A moment later, the cage rose around them. Iron bars locked them both in and hoisted them into the air.

"No!" He heard one of the men call. He turned around, as realization dawned. He was trapped with the beast.

The iron cage locked shut, the top clanging into position. There was nothing for it now. Van Helsing drew his pistol, cocking one of the silver bullets into place.

The creature growled; the loud roar a deafening force. In the next moment, it was upon him.

A shot and a scream rang loud through the woods as, for the second time in his life, Van Helsing felt the sharp teeth of a werewolf dig deep into his flesh.


	3. Chapter 3

PLEASE READ!

A/N: Alrighty, here where I begin to tread on thin ice. If you haven't read my profile page, then I'll tell you: I write of my own pleasure, so if you dont like it dont read it. That's your problem. I'm also a Christian, and sometimes I tend to "Christian-ize" characters. Especally since several of the VH characetrs are so involved with the church. Anyhow, I'm giving you fair warning: I know this is not the place for it, but I went on a little ramble in this chapter. If you dont like it, then skip over it and go to where the diologue starts back up. But I would encurage you to read it - it wasn't in me to take it out because I love what it says. And if you've any questions on it, PM me.

Now, on with the story!

* * *

For a moment, he did not know what had happened. The great, warm form of a creature lay atop him. He felt it moving. Light dawned on his vision, as he opened his eyes at last.

Looking down on what was on him, he saw the fur-covered head of a werewolf. As he watched, it slowly changed into the head of a man.

"Ugh!" Van Helsing grunted, turning it off of himself, he frantically backed up as much as he could, still confined to the small suspended cage. He stared at the dead body before him, slowly bringing his hand up to his forehead, he crossed himself in the traditional catholic manner, muttering a small phrase in Latin, asking forgiveness for the blood he had spilt.

He next looked down to his own body. A crimson stain was already starting to spread across his right shoulder. "No…" He whispered softly. Not again. He closed his eyes for a moment to take in the news. The curse was upon him. Again. He looked up to the moon in despair. He had nearly a full moon cycle before its hold on him would be complete, but he knew that the symptoms would start long before that. Grabbing his pistol, he pushed it back into its place on his belt with a small grunt of anger.

At least he had the living werewolf he needed.

"Van Helsing?" He heard one of the men question from below him.

Rolling around, he answered them with a smile, grasping the metal cage that now held him, and waved to those below.

"He's alive!" One of them called, exited and astonished. Van Helsing recognized him as the young boy from the previous night. "Bring him down!"

The men began to lower the ropes, and Van Helsing's cage made a quick decent. He stood up, grasping the bars, and looked down on the men, as he came closer to them.

"Are you alright?" The young boy asked. They had heard him scream.

Van Helsing inhaled slowly, dealing with his pain. He suddenly realized that if the men knew he was bitten, they would fear him. "Yes." He said quickly, opening his eyes and plastering a smile on his face once more. "But this man…" He pointed to the body behind him. "He is in need of a proper burial."

The men nodded, lowering the cage to the ground at last, they quickly opened it, and brought the body out. Van Helsing then came out to join them.

"Good shot!" The large man from the previous night said, sounding quite impressed. "But yer alright? We heard you yell, thought he might'a got ya!"

Van Helsing nodded. It would do him no good if these men knew he was accursed.

"So you didn't get yer werewolf- not alive, at least… But at least we got one less beast in the forest." The man continued. "We could use you more often!" He laughed, placing a hand on Van Helsing's shoulder, he slapped him good-naturedly on the back.

Van Helsing grimaced, as the large man unknowingly pounded his fresh and poisoned wound.

"What the-" The man pulled his hand away when he felt something odd. Looking down, he found his hand was covered in blood. He looked back up to Van Helsing, his eyes now searching and able to see the wound. A deep fear grew in his eyes. "You…" he started. He could not finished his sentence.

"Get back!" The man yelled, drawing his pistol.

"Father?!" The young boy beside him yelled. The man grabbed his son by the arm and placed himself before the boy.

Van Helsing's immediate reaction was to draw his blades. For a moment, he stood there, ready to fight. His hands froze just before he powered his weapons. He stood there for a moment, as several of the men around him drew their weapons and sighted them on his heart.

Slowly, he put his blades back, and raised his hands in surrender. "Please." He said, his voice strong. "Please, do not kill me."

The man before him's brow knotted. "Why?" he asked. "You will become like him!" He yelled, risking a moment to point to the dead body of the former werewolf. "It is better to deal with you now than then."

"No." Van Helsing answered. He looked up to the nearly full moon. "Do I look like a wolf to you?" He asked. "I will leave here. I swear. Before I do any damage."

"To murder someone else?!" the man asked, his fear making him angry.

"No." Van Helsing said calmly. "I told you before. I need a living werewolf. Now I have one."

The man shook his head. "It's to dangerous!" He took a step forward, pressing his gun closer to Van Helsing's face. He motioned for the man to back up. Van Helsing took slow, careful steps backwards.

As he backed up, Van Helsing realized what was happening. He was entering the cage again. But he realized it too late. In half a moment, the man slammed and locked the door shut.

"No!" Van Helsing's eyes went wide for a moment, as he took a step forward, slamming himself into the metal bars.

All of the men outside of the cage jumped; the tension in the air was high.

"If you lock me here, the curse will only take effect faster!" Van Helsing told them. "Please, let me go!" He could feel the strange wave of sudden rage welling up in him already.

"I cannot!" The large man said.

"_OOOWWRRRRRRROOOL!!!"_ Van Helsing let out a huge howl, looking up to the moon.

"Ahh!" All the men outside his cage yelled; several of them firing their rifles. Many of the rounds went wild, or bounced off the bars of the cage. The ones that did not, pierced him without effect. It would take much more then lead to kill him now.

Van Helsing's anger gave him strength now, and took over his reason. If he had thought about it, he would have restrained, wishing the curse to come as slowly as possible. But he was not thinking that clearly at the moment; the fresh poison flowing through his blood. Grasping the bars of his prison with both hands, he slowly but surely pulled them apart; bending metal with his unhuman strength.

Of the few men who had not run in terror already, their numbers continued to dwindle. Soon there were only two left; the man and his son.

Van Helsing opened his eyes, looking around to see that all the gunmen were gone, he stopped. The bars were not open enough for him to escape, but he had to stop. Taking a deep, labored breath, he realized how close he had come to letting the curse take an even deeper hold. It had not been a wise move. He glared still at the man before him, as he tried to force down his rage.

"Please." He said, his voice oddly deep. "Release me." He asked again. The man shook his head. "I swear to God not to harm you!" Van Helsing insisted. The man's brow knotted. He did not know that werewolves could utter the Lord's name without effect. For a moment, he thought of releasing the man. But then he thought of the safety of his family.

"I am sorry." He said. "I cannot."

Van Helsing let his head fall to rest on the bent metal bars. "Don't make me do this." He pleaded, for their sake as well as his. If he continued to act the way he was, the curse would come on much, much faster, and he did not know if he would even be able to keep control until he was far enough away to keep his promise. But he needed the cure, and he had only a month to get it.

"I am sorry." The man said again. He then walked slowly away.

Van Helsing dropped to his knees. He had to control himself. As he forced his anger to subside, he realized exactly how much his actions had effected him. It horrified him. He could not do anything rash like that, ever again.

"God." He said aloud, still on his knees. "Help me." He needed control, and he needed a way out. Neither of these could accomplish right now- or at least not both at once. Not by himself.

He had been taught to rely on God. But for most of his life, he seemed to get by just fine all by himself. But it was always the small voice in the back of his head. Something told him to follow that voice now. He did not know why, but he felt the urge to simply pray.

Unbeknownst to him, a young set of eyes watched from the bushes with a small smile.

-- -- --

"Van Helsing?" A small voice interrupted his thoughts.

Van Helsing's head shot up.

In the early light of pre-dawn, he saw a young man standing before him. It was the same boy that he had met the first night.

As he let his eyes focus on the boy, he took in his surroundings. By the light in the air, and the surrounding mist, as well as the birds calls and the temperature, he would guess it to be some time just before five in the morning. He had not slept all night. He, instead, had spent the night in prayer, which was odd in and of itself. He had never even dreamed of doing such a thing before. In fact, he had scorned it.

He had realized a lot of things last night. It was strange, but praying seemed to give him an odd sensation it was… Comfortable. Comforting. Somehow, he found strength in it. He knew that God was there, and that He was listening. Such things had been pounded into his head for as long as he could remember, along with how important everything was, and all the churches traditions and such things. But here, out in the woods, alone, and suffering from a strange poison, he felt that none of that mattered. He did not need a priest to talk with God. It was a strange feeling, but a good one.

As he had prayed that night, he had taken off the silver chain that he always kept on his vest. On it hung a small, silver cross. He had been long taught what the cross meant, but here, alone, with God, it suddenly all seemed to mean more.

He thought back to what he knew of the story. Not to long ago- although it seemed like ages now- he had hunted something that had led him through Jerusalem. There he had the aid of a man that had spoken of the Christ, and showed him verses Bible to show what he had meant.

Van Helsing had read the Bible; lots of it. But never had he heard anyone speak with such real conviction as this man had. He thought back to what the man had said. He spoke of love.

It was not what the church had taught him, not by a long shot, but somehow, he could not deny it. It was odd to think that he, the lone dark rouge that the world hated- the one that leaned only on himself, and no other, and took pride in that fact- He needed this. For the first time in his life, Van Helsing realized that love was not a luxury, nut a necessity. Even for him.

The cross was more than just a symbol. More even then just a power. It was sacrifice. It was love. It was the knowledge that someone who has ultimate power over all the universe cared enough about you, your pain, and your doom to come down, bleed and die. It meant that someone who had every right and reason to send you to hell forever gave the ultimate sacrifice so that you could, instead, share in His glory.

The more he thought about it, the more irrational it seemed. The more miraculously, wonderfully, gloriously irrational. Nothing could be more beautifully counter-intuitive, nor so marvelously real. It worked against all human reason, by trumping mortal reason with immortal love. How could anyone who was perfect find any love in their heart for those that were not? Why? For those that scorned and rejected him, beat and killed him. How could He possibly love them? But He did.

If God could do that, Van Helsing was now convinced that He could do anything. And in that, he rested. He did not care if he was poisoned. He did not care he was in a cage. He did not care that he had only one moon cycle to fetch a cure. He did not care that to do so he would have to be bitten by a vampire. All he knew was that with God, all things were possible. If God had found a way to love _him_, a murderer; If God knew the depths of his heart, yet still love him enough to come out of heaven to die. Then God could surly do anything.

"Are you alright?" A small voice brought him back to the situation at hand.

"What?" Van Helsing opened his eyes again, not even realizing that he had shut them.

"Are you…" The boy's hesitance was obvious. It was not every day that one knowingly talked with a werewolf. "Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yes." Van Helsing answered in short. "Don't be afraid." He added. "I wont hurt you."

The boy nodded. "I know…But I'm the only one that would believe it." He said. "I... I saw you, last night… You were… praying."

Van Helsing nodded, his brow knotting slightly "Yes…?"

The boy looked around cautiously. "Well, I… I thought… I thought Werewolves were… evil…" He said, very unsurely. He did not want to insult the 'Monster', but his curiosity got the best of him.

Van Helsing sighed. "I thought so too." He said. "But… I am no monster." He reassured. "I am a man." He stood to his feet at last, and approached the bars. He reached out a hand to the boy as an example of what he was saying.

"Then again…" He stopped, his brow knotting. He drew back his hand and grasped the metal bars between them. "Maybe I am a monster. But The Lord God died for my sins." He said flatly. "I do not know if I am worth saving, but I have been saved. Monster or not- you decide."

The boy had heard enough. His anxiety melted slowly away, to be replaced by confidence. He smiled at Van Helsing now, as the man spoke.

"…So if you're here to kill me…" Van Helsing added. For a moment, the boy looked shocked that Van Helsing would even think that of him.

"No." He said quickly. "No, I came to... Apologize."

"Apologize?"

"Yes… I am sorry for what happened last night. It's not your fault, what happened. If blame is to be cast, it should be on me." The young man looked to the ground. "I was the one that cut the rope…. It was my fault you were trapped in that cage." He said softly, his voice thick with shame.

Van Helsing, however, smiled at him. "It was not your fault." He said. "You did as you were told; I heard the order." He said as the boy looked up to him, barely able to meet his gaze. "And, I know this will sound strange, but…" Van Helsing reached his arm out from the bent iron bars that stood between them and rested his hand on the young man's shoulder. "Thank you."

The boy's mouth fell open in slight shock as he finally met Van Helsing's gaze. "What? But you're… You were bitten! And-"

"I know." Van Helsing cut him off. "But it's alright. You helped show that to me. You helped show me that it's alright. God's in control." He said with a smile. "You made me slow down and talk with Him. And yes, I know, I was bitten by a werewolf. I'm a monster, I know. But… This is not the first time I have been hunted." He said with a small, mischievous smile. "And this is not the first time I have been bitten." He added, the irony shining clearly though a smile.

The boy's brow knotted. What?

"Yes, I know, it seems impossible." Van Helsing seemed to read his mind. "And it's a long story. It's the reason why I wanted a living Werewolf. I know how to make a cure for the curse. It's a long story, but to make it, I need a werewolf. A living one." He said. The boy's brow knotted, but he nodded, following along with what Van Helsing said. "And thanks to you." Van Helsing smiled at him again. "I have one."

The boy's mouth dropped open slightly. How did this man take such a serious matter so lightly? Did he not know what would happen to him as a werewolf? But he had to know.

"Van Helsing." The boy said again. "The real reason I came…" He looked around once more, his anxiety coming back. Quickly, he slipped from his pocket a small piece of metal. It was a key. With it, he unlatched the cage door.

Swinging the door open, he smiled up at the man, who smiled back.

"Thank you." Van Helsing said. It truly was an answer to his prayers. Picking up his pack once more, he walked out of the cage. "What was your name?"

"Michael." The boy said with a smile. "Son of Thomas."

Van Helsing smiled at him once more. It was a good name. "Well, Michael, son of Thomas." He said. "I'm in your debt."

Michael shook his head. "No, you've shown me enough." He said. "You've given me someone to look up to. And shown me that I am not the only one around here who cares for the true ways of God." He smiled.

"And you have shown me that God answers prayers." Van Helsing said. For a moment, a comfortable quiet hung between them: gratitude on both of their faces. But the silence was quickly shattered.

"Michael!" A familiar voice rang out through the still dense morning fog. Michael's head snapped around to locate the sound of his father's voice.

_*Bang!*_

A shout sounded from his left.

Van Helsing turned quickly as a bullet whizzed by his face, missing him by millimeters. The man's immediate reaction was to place himself in between the new threat and his new friend, drawing his pistol.

"You get away from him!" Thomas' voice called to him, as the man came slowly closer, coming through the heavy fog. "Don't hurt my son!" He held a rifle, level with Van Helsing's heart, no doubt containing silver bullets.

Van Helsing put up his pistol, but this time did not raise his hands in surrender. "I swore to God I wouldn't." He said calmly. "I am a man of my word."

"A man of your word, maybe, but you're a monster now." The man said roughly. He had come to see what had happened to the werewolf, expecting to find either a caged beast or a broken cage. What he found was a cursed man laying a hand on his only son.

"Perhaps." Van Helsing answered. "But I stand now before you as a man. Ask Michael yourself." He said as the boy came out from behind him.

"Please father-"

"You stay out of this!" His father yelled, cutting him off. "Haven't you seen enough of these monsters to know that they are evil?! It's dangerous!"

"I've seen enough of this man to know that he isn't."

Van Helsing smiled. Dangerous, he was. But evil he was not. "I promised you I would leave, before I could do anyone any damage. And I will." Van Helsing said, beginning to back up slowly.

"No you wont!" Thomas yelled. Van Helsing's eyes went slightly wide, as the man began to squeeze the trigger on his gun.

"Father, no!" Michael put his hand up to stop him. Grabbing the barrel of his father's gun, he shoved it aside. The bullet went wild, lodging itself into a tree.

"You!" Thomas yelled in rage at the boy.

As the two looked back to where Van Helsing stood, neither could believe their eyes. Michael smiled, and Thomas raged.

Van Helsing was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

"_Uuuuuuuunnngggh." _A drawn out, miserable moan could be heard from the large lump of leather laying in the snow.

Slowly, it lifted its head.

Van Helsing struggled to draw in another frigid, painful breath. His ribs ached fiercely, and he barely had the strength to pull himself out of the ice he lay on. Now he understood why werewolves had fur coats. He half wished he could have his now, but the moon was not out, and he would not have risked it anyway.

As he sat up, he placed a hand on his hurting ribs. He was sure that at very least, three of them were broken.

He lay somewhere in the mountainous pass along the border of Romania and Poland, but he was not quite sure where. His injuries, however, were not due to the mountains. The last village he had come to, at the foot of the mountains, had not exactly welcomed him.

News traveled fast in Romania, especially around Transylvania, and they had heard reports that this man called Van Helsing bore the curse. He had entered their town quietly enough, with his dark hat drawn low over his eyes. All he wanted was to buy some food and continue on.

Somehow, he had been recognized. The angry mob that ensued had been bent on stoning him. There were not many werewolves in the mountains, but when something like him came to town, the people fought back. None of them knew, perhaps, that a stoning would not kill, but only anger a werewolf. Van Helsing had taken a beating, and been forced to flee the town before his rage overwhelmed him- for their sakes more then his. He did not want to hurt any of them.

He still bore large bruises and cuts from their stones, not to mention his several broken ribs. But he fought on, through the mountains, hoping only to be ignored in the next village.

Having been refused the food he attempted to purchase in the last town, he was extremely hungry, and he knew that if he did not eat something soon, his weakness would get the better of him, and his werewolf side would take over; driving him to kill and eat anything he laid eyes on. He almost feared for whatever the nearest village was; weather the one behind or before him, he did not know.

In truth, he did not even know that there _was_ a village somewhere before him. For all his knowledge, he could be lost in a gigantic snow storm, or trapped by impassable mountains. There had once been a road through this pass, but with the November snow, it was a road that few dared travel, and fewer made it across.

Struggling to lift himself up once more, he kept one arm on his aching ribs and one in front of his face, warding off the howling wind. The sun would be going down soon, and things would only get worse. _If _he could win the battle within himself, he would still have to face another miserable night on this mountain.

Groaning as he shoved one foot in front of another, the icy wind whipped harshly over his frostbitten cheeks. He did not know how long it had been like this, but it seemed to have been an eternity.

_For Anna_. He tried to remind himself. This was not just for himself this time. They were counting on him. He could not bear to see Anna held under such a curse.

Stumbling down a small hill, his face hit the snow again as he fell forward to his knees. His hands shaking, he pulled his leather overcoat closer around him, trying desperately to starve off the cold. His undershirt was already starting to get wet, he could not take any more.

Forcing himself up again, he leaned for a moment on the side of the mountain, trying to catch his breath, and regain his strength. Just a little longer now. It had to be just a little longer. One step. Two. Three. He was on the ground again. Groaning once more, he attempted to pick himself up again.

Every breath was another battle; every step another war. And he was loosing, ever so slowly. The wind whipped around him, and the darkness came ever closer. If he did not find his way before the moon rose, he was now positive that he would lose the fight.

As the sun set behind the tall mountains, it became all the more apparent that he would, in fact, lose.

"Gaah!" Stumbling to the ground, he half groaned, half yelled as he felt the moon's pull to him already. He looked up to see the bright orb barely poking out of the black night. It had been hours now, but he had only gone what seemed a few feet. He could go no farther. Not like this.

Falling to his knees, he put all of his energy into simply staying human. He would not give in. He _could_ not.

_God, help me…_His mind begged, as he closed his eyes against the pain. His stomach growled loudly in complaint; a sound that nearly turned itself into an actual growl, as his beastly body reminded him once more of his driving hunger. He had to eat something. But he had no more supplies. He had to hunt. The urge was almost irresistible now. He could feel the hairs standing up on his arms, and the back of his neck. Not out of cold, but as his muscles tensed unnaturally underneath his own skin.

His eyes opened wide, glowing in an eerie light as he looked slowly up to the moon, battling to restrain to beastly howl that rose in his throat. He forced his head down. No. He could not. He had to keep control. Last time he had lost control, Anna had nearly died. Taking a few moments to collect himself, he stooped on all fours for a short while, half thanking the Lord that there was no living being around to see him in such a terrifying state, half begging Him to bring a rescuer.

Tensing suddenly, he heard something in the snow behind him. _No!_ his mind cried. No, if anyone were to approach him now, they would loose their life. He was sure of it. Balling his fists, he tried desperately to remain in control, as he heard what he recognized as horse hoofs walking slowly towards him. _Run!_ He tried to yell at whoever it was. But he could not. If he opened his mouth, all that would come out would be a growl.

"Van Helsing?" He heard a familiar voice.

Spinning around, even the simple motion was too much. His wolf instincts took over. Whatever was behind him, it was edible. It might have been human, but right now it was food. His legs propelled him forward in a huge pounce, knocking who ever it was from their steed, and into the snow. From his throat came a terrifying snarling growl, as he caught his prey.

"Van Helsing!" The being cried again. For a moment, Van Helsing could see clearly. Laying in the snow under him was a man; a friend. "No!" Carl's familiar voice cried.

Van Helsing tried desperately now to restrain himself. He had to. Memories flashed in his mind of when he had failed, and bitten Anna. He would not do something like that again. He could not. Gripping Carl by the shoulders, he summoned all his strength to stop from killing the man, then and there. His mouth opened in a huge snarl, and he tried to take in a deep breath.

Realization finally dawned in Van Helsing's eyes, as Carl watched, wide eyed, as his old friend came inches from killing him.

As the bestiality left him, Van Helsing began to shake. From cold, adrenaline, and fear, as the realization of what had almost done truly sunk in.

"Van Helsing?" Carl asked again, himself trembling with fear.

"I'm… Sorry…" Van Helsing said, pushing himself off of the man, he rolled into the snow beside him, closing his eyes for a moment to collect himself.

"What- "Carl stuttered. Van Helsing had been cured of the curse! Had it not worked? He quickly considered what that would mean- it would mean that there truly was no hope for both him and Anna. "Are you alright?" He asked slowly, sitting up to look at the man who had tackled him from his horse.

"I… I'm sorry." Van Helsing said again. "I was bitten… By a werewolf…. Again."

"Again!?" Carl asked in astonishment.

"Yes. I was trying to catch one… to make the cure, and he bit me. I guess I shall be the one to dare make the cure now." Van Helsing said, sitting up at last.

"Oh! That's the reason I was looking for you!" Carl said suddenly. "I mean not because you were bitten, but to warn you. About the curse, and the cure. I found something else that you may want to know." He said.

"Yes?" Van Helsing prompted quickly.

"Well, you see, when a werewolf is bitten by a vampire, he has vampire venom running into him, just like any man would." Carl said, and Van Helsing nodded. "But unlike other men, he can fight it off. This much you know. But there was something else. If the Werewolf is not strong enough, he can loose the fight, just like any other man, and himself become a vampire."

"_What?!_" Van Helsing's voice bore more rage then he wished it too, as he still recovered from his previous state. If he were one to curse, he would curse the moon. But he had been taught to hold his tongue.

"Well, you see, he'd then be both Werewolf and Vampire. The combination has long been dreamt of, but I don't think it's ever actually happened. But it's possible. The result would be what is called a 'Werepyer', and is an almost unstoppable evil." Carl said, swallowing hard in fear, as Van Helsing hung his head at the news. "The bad thing is that, if the vampire that bit him dies, it does not mean that the werepyer dies. Most of his curse will take on attributes like that of a wolf; and he will have almost a second side. No one is sure if he could ever become both beasts at once, or just switch between them. The problem is, with this third nature, it becomes almost impossible for him to ever stay human." Carl finished.

Van Helsing sighed deeply. "If I go through with this, how probable would such a transformation be?" he asked, almost fearing an answer.

"Well… For a normal werewolf, I would say next to none- as I said, I'm not positive that it's ever happened before. But if you're doing this for Anna, then your body would loose some of its antivenom- and some of its power. The chances would increase, but… I really don't know what would happen. I'm sorry." Carl said, a grim frown coming on his face. In the following silence, he stood and brought back his horse, who had spooked a short ways after Van Helsing's attack.

As Carl fetched his mount, Van Helsing said a short prayer. He asked for God to help him- as he had asked so many times before. But he still needed it. It seemed now, looking back, that almost every time he had asked, he had received help from the Lord- in fact he could not remember a time when that was not true. The problem was he did not always ask. But he was asking now.

He opened his eyes as he thought over what all had just happened. It finally dawned on him to ask why on earth Carl was going through the mountains at all. He had left the man in charge back at Dracula's castle.

"Where's Anna?" He asked, standing to his feet at last.

"In Transylvania, in the Valorous manner… don't worry, Frankenstein is with her." Carl said, checking his supplies. With a smile, he pulled out a small loaf of bread, and handed it to Van Helsing. He could tell the man was hungry, from the look he had on his face when he had snarled.

Van Helsing took the bread quickly, with a nod of thanks, and took a large bite. "Frankenstein?" He asked with his mouth full.

"Yes, Dr. Frankenstein's... Creation." Carl specified. He could not bring himself to say 'monster'. "You see, we brought Anna back to Romania, and she's staying at the manor. Every night before the moon rises, we go back through the door, to Dracula's castle. Just in case. We said that if anything bad were to happen, we could leave Anna there until the sun rose. Then she could come back. A werewolf can't open the door when it's in its wolven form, you see… So everything is safe."

Van Helsing nodded, as he quickly devoured the rest of his small meal. As he fully returned to his normal state, he realized once more exactly how cold he was.

"Come on. It's no good to stay out here. If my maps are right, the next village isn't very far that way." Carl said, pointing northwestward. "You can ride. I rode all the way here. I'm surprised I caught you too, but I guess if you got bitten by a werewolf, it might have slowed you down a bit, hm?"

"You have no idea." Van Helsing groaned slightly, gripping his ribs, as he swung himself up into the saddle, grimacing slightly.

"What happened to you?" Carl asked.

"Villagers." Van Helsing replied grimly. "Villagers who don't like werewolves."

"Ah." Carl said, nodding knowingly. "Strange, I never heard a word about you. Of course I didn't ask, I just rode through. I was pretty sure of the route you had taken." He said, smiling at his own clever ways. "In fact, I only really talked to one young man about you. I mentioned you in Transylvania, but only one person would tell me anything!" He laughed. "He said you were a holy man." He added, smiling up as his old friend. "His name was… uh…"

"Michael." Van Helsing said, with a smile. For a moment, Carl stopped, wondering how he knew, but then smiled, nodding. Van Helsing joined him, cracking his own smile.

"Come on, now…" Carl called to the horse Van Helsing rode, taking it by the reigns, and walking in through the snow. They would reach the next town by morning.

Van Helsing smiled, and whispered a quiet thanks to the Lord for sending swiftly the rescue he had requested.


	5. Chapter 5

"Here we go again." Van Helsing whispered dryly. He snuck his hand up and pulled his hat down lower, hiding his eyes. He and Carl went slowly past the gate of the small wall that surrounded the city. The watchmen cast them a long, suspicious glance.

"Just keep down." Carl muttered, placing a warning hand on his friend's shoulder.

Carl walked cautiously into the town, holding the reigns of his horse. On top of the dark brown mare rode Van Helsing. He slumped over, leaning down on the horse and practically lying on its neck. He was very good at acting like a half-dead man.

This particular act, Carl and Van Helsing had actually pulled before. The 'Good Samaritan' act. Van Helsing would act as a man who had been injured and nearing death, and Carl as the kind friar who helped him back to health.

Carl guided his horse quietly towards the small church building in the middle of town, slipping as quietly as he could through the crowds and blending in as much as possible.

The town was not all together unlike Transylvania. Its dark, gloomy old roads were filled with many quiet people, with a dark fear hidden in their eyes. Yes, they were sure they had found the right town now.

Carl lifted his eyes up slowly to the mountainous hills to the north. Somewhere up there, in those dark woods, he knew the vampire must live.

"Carl…" Van Helsing moaned softly, trying to get the man back on track, and stop fantasizing about the monster they were looking for.

"Oh, right..." Carl looked back to the town, glancing through the streets. It was easy enough to locate the church; its high steeple rose above the roofs of all other buildings. But the abundance of wary looks he was receiving was troubling him.

"Just go." Van Helsing whispered. Carl nodded, and started off again.

After only two wrong turns in the dark streets, Van Helsing and Carl finally approached the steps of the small church.

Carl helped the 'wounded' Van Helsing down, pretending to support much more of the man's weight then he actually did as they entered the small chapel.

"Father?" Carl's voice question echoed in the small, empty room they entered. "Anybody?"

They walked a little further in, looking for anyone that might help them. Carl hoped that, above anyone else, a man of the church could help them with the vampires. Especially since both he and Van Helsing came from the Vatican.

"Welcome!" They heard at last, as a small man, much younger than they were expecting, came around the corner. His familiar brown robes looked much like Carl's, however less worn, and more recently washed.

"Father?" Carl questioned again.

"Bother, actually." The man corrected. "I am Brother Stephen, A traveling friar- much like yourself I would assume." He smiled at Carl, who nodded, not really wishing to tell of his actual work. "The caretaker of this church is Father Benedict, who is probably in the back room." He added. "But come, this man is in need of assistance, no?" Stephen asked.

"Well, he… Um…" Carl stuttered, as Van Helsing shifted his weight, no longer leaning on Carl, and standing onto his own two feet. Lifting his head, he removed his hat to look upon the young friar Stephen.

"I do." He answered. "But not in the way you would think."

A look of surprise covered the friar's face, followed momentarily by a look of slight horror, as he obviously recognized Van Helsing. "You… You're…"

"I know." Van Helsing cut him off. "I'm a wanted man. Please, help us. I have done no wrong." He said.

"Is it… true?" Stephen asked hesitantly. "You killed Dracula?"

Van Helsing looked him straight in the eye. He did not know what kind of reaction this would bring. The entire reason they were afraid of the people was because he had, in fact, been the one to kill Dracula. They had heard reports that the other vampires, especially the ones in this area, were not at all happy with him, and that this particular vampire was taking his revenge out on the poor town in which they now stood. But somehow, he felt he could trust this young man.

"Yes." He said flatly, still looking him straight in the eye.

For a moment, Stephen only stood there, staring. Carl held his breath, and Van Helsing continued only to stare him down.

"Come with me." The friar said quickly, as if a memory had just returned to him, breaking whatever spell of motionlessness that had held him. He turned and went to open a door at the other end of the large room, beckoning them quickly; a strange tense air filled the room.

"Where are we going?" Van Helsing asked, his voice deep with uneasy question.

"Shh! Just come on!" Stephen insisted, waving them forward, he looked around as if an enemy was upon them- or would be at any moment. Carl walked forward, past the other friar, and Van Helsing followed cautiously. There was something urgent, almost fearful in young Stephen's deep blue eyes. But nothing malicious, nothing wrong. He wanted to help.

"Stephen?" A deep, older voice came from behind Van Helsing, to his left.

Stephen sucked in a quick breath, pain flashing over his eyes, as what he had hoped to avoid came into reality.

"Father, I-" He pushed past Van Helsing, looking up to the priest he had identified as Father Benedict.

"Who is this?" The man cut him off, looking suspiciously at Van Helsing's tall form, as the man turned slowly to him, his head down. Stephen bit his lip for half a moment, before it became clear that no introduction was needed.

Van Helsing looked up to the man, who immediately recognized his face.

"You…" Father Benedict reeled back. The reports concerning Dracula were not the first time he had heard Van Helsing's name. In fact, not long ago, a traveler had come bearing news of a long line of brutal murders that had occurred in London and Paris. Benedict had seen the wanted posters, and recognized now the man that stood before him.

"Father, stop! He-" Stephen tried once more to ward off the man's unavoidable wrath, stepping between the priest and Van Helsing.

"You! Murderer!" Benedict cried, gripping Stephen's shoulder to push him aside.

"No! Maybe he can help us!" Stephen insisted, holding his ground.

"He is the reason of our anguish!" Benedict turned from Van Helsing to Stephen.

"No, Father. He is not." Stephen stated firmly, his voice seeming a resolute end to the argument.

"Listen- I don't know what you think I did, but-" Van Helsing was cut off by Benedict, as the priest spoke up again.

"You have brought my people much grief." He said, calmer than before, but still quite angry. "Do you think vampires take it lightly when one of their accursed, immortal kin is slain?!"

"I'm sorry-"

"Do you wish to bring their wrath on us all?!"

"No, I-"

"Already, three men lay dead because of you! Was the slaughter in London and Paris not enough for you?!"

"_WHAT_?!" Van Helsing at last got his own say. "Do you think that was my doing?" He asked, his brow furrowing in slight worry and confusion. "The only man I killed in Paris, or London, was the murderer who killed the rest." He told them. "And the only man I killed in Romania _or_ Poland was Count Dracula and his brides."

Benedict stood still for a moment, looking Van Helsing over with a disapproving eye and considered his words. "Perhaps." He said. "But the beasts of Hell live forever in want of revenge, and if you give them an excuse to kill, they will take it."

"Forgive me, then, if I have caused any man grief by ridding this world of one more demon." Van Helsing answered pointedly.

"Forgive you?" Benedict raised an eyebrow in what seemed to be a much-practiced look of scorn. "May God forgive the blood on your hands, but I cannot." He said.

"Father!" Stephen tried once more to bring the old man around to see reason. "Maybe he can help us. Maybe he can kill Lucius!" He said again. Van Helsing could only guess that they spoke of the vampire.

"Help us?" Benedict turned to the friar. "You wish to invite this filth to stay in my city?" he asked. "Away with you! If I were not a man of God, I would have killed this man long ago!"

"Father!" Stephen yelled again. That was no way for a priest to talk.

"Let the people deal with this criminal!" Benedict yelled on, turning as if to go to the door and gather the people of the town.

"No!" Van Helsing yelled, shoving past Stephen, he grabbed the priest by the arm, stopping his forward motion. "No, I want to help. I can kill the vampire." He said, hoping to find favor.

Benedict only glared at him harder, ripping his arm out of Van Helsing's grasp. "You, sir, are lucky to be alive. Do not pride yourself to think that you can escape death again." He said. "Before you came, we lived in relative peace with the vampires. And if they kill you, good riddance, sir, perhaps they will leave us alone."

Van Helsing steeled his jaw, dangerous anger rising in him; he remembered once more the bestiality that lived in him. Half of him fought with all its might to restrain his rage, but half of him would be satisfied to strangle the man on the spot.

"I come from the Vatican." He said, remembering at last that he might find some protection if he had the respect of the church on his side. From his pocket, he drew a small piece of parchment, sealed and signed by the Cardinal of the Order, and the Pope himself.

Benedict barely looked at the paper before his response was made clear.

"Do not blaspheme the Church of God!" He shouted, his hand coming up in a swift, strong arch, he backhanded Van Helsing across the face with enough sudden force to knock him backwards.

As Van Helsing stumbled back, dropping his parchment, his hand went immediately to his side, grapping one of his blades. He drew it, cranked it quickly, and by reaction and rage only, without thought of the consequences, let the spinning saw blade fly.

"NO!" He head Stephen yell, as he sent the weapon shooting towards the priest.

The next moment was a blur. All Van Helsing knew was that after it was over, Benedict still stood. The priest looked on him with shocked, almost disbelieving eyes.

Between them, young Stephen had fallen to a knee, gripping his right shoulder tightly; his brown cloak was stained with bright crimson blood.

"Stephen!" Carl's voice at last rang out in the small church as he ran from the place he had been hiding behind the door and came to his fellow friar's side.

Benedict was only distracted by the newcomer for a moment; his eyes were glued to Stephen.

Van Helsing could only stare, wide eyed, at Stephen, as he realized what he had done. He had lashed out in his anger, and drawn the blood of a good man.

For most of his life, such an action would have meant little to him. But things had changed. And right now, it seemed the most brutal and tragic thing he could have ever done. His mouth hung open in shock.

Carl went to help Stephen up, but the man rose of his own accord.

Gripping his wound tightly, he rose slowly, standing between Van Helsing and Father Benedict once more.

"Do not shed blood in the house of the Lord." He told Van Helsing flatly and sternly.

"Out." Benedict ordered. "OUT!" he shouted. "Get out of this house! And a good riddance!" he reached forward to grab Van Helsing by the shoulder. Stephen immediately reached up to stop him.

"Father Benedict." He said firmly, grabbing the older man's wrist with his own bloodied hand. Benedict glared at him hard.

"You can go with him, if you want, Stephen!" Benedict spat the name. "But I will not have it in my church! Or in my city!" He turned Stephen's grasp around, grabbing his arm and swinging him around, he threw him towards the door; Completely disregarding the fact that Stephen had just literally saved his life. Stephen cringed slightly as his fresh wound was twisted painfully.

Benedict next grabbed Van Helsing and threw him after the friar, tossing him to the ground. Walking past the two, the priest grabbed Van Helsing by the back of his collar and, with surprising strength, pulled him towards the door.

Throwing the double doors open, he tossed Van Helsing out into the street, where the man rolled harshly to a stop in the snow.

"Good people!" He cried, gathering a small, slowly growing crowd. "Who among you has suffered the terrible harm brought on by Lucius' horrible revenge?!" He asked. Many in the crowd gave a shout, joining him, and calling out their suffering. "This man is the cause of our misery!" Benedict added, coming down and kicking Van Helsing hard in the back, and sending the man, who had risen to his hands and knees, back to the ground.

"No!" Stephen and Carl could both be heard from inside the small church. At once, Benedict turned around and slammed the doors shut, barring and locking them.

"No! I can help you!" Van Helsing tired to make himself heard. But the people would not listen. They crowded around him as he finally stood up.

"This is the great Van Helsing you have heard tell of!" Benedict shouted to them. "_He_ is the one that raised Lucius' evil wrath!"

The whole town seemed to riot and gather to hear the Priest, braving the frigid air and light snowfall.

"Is he now?" Another voice came from behind them suddenly. At once, a hush fell on the crowd. Fear like a cold wind stole from them all words. All eyes were lifted to the being that came behind them.

Van Helsing's brow knotted as his eyes finally reached the figure that had interrupted them. Everyone else in the whole town seemed to recognize her.

A woman stood there, of striking beauty. Her hair was a bright, almost shining red- a striking contrast to the white, snow-covered world around them. And her eyes were a piercing but pale blue. Her skin was pale, and the intricate dress she wore, as blue as her eyes, shone in contrast to the townsfolk. Her voice was sweet, but somehow, it made him extremely uncomfortable. Her pale lips twisted up in an amused, dangerous smile.

"This is the one my master hates?" She asked, stepping closer, she looked Van Helsing straight in the eye. Realization finally came to Van Helsing, as he looked into those eyes. He had seen that look before: The brightened eyes, the mischievous grin. All the people around him seemed scared stiff of her, several of them even stepping aside; slowly fleeing her. Even Father Benedict seemed frozen in place.

The people slinked farther and farther away from Van Helsing as the woman approached. She smiled at him, looking him up and down, her eyes as if one under a spell.

Van Helsing glared at her. His hands moved cautiously towards the weapons on his belt. He had left his crossbow on his horse, which stood tied by the church, some ways behind him, but he still had one of his tojo blades, and two pistols.

The woman reached out a hand to him, as if to take hold of his chin and look him over, and Van Helsing finally acted.

In a flash, his pistol was out, aimed, cocked, and fired. A loud bang resounded through the square; but his target was still standing. The bullet entered the left side of her chest, where it should have pierced her heart. She looked casually down at the wound.

Van Helsing's eyes widened as his fears were realized. He watched as the fresh wound proceeded to close itself up; leaving no trace of his bullet. She was a vampire. Something in his heart skipped a beat, knowing that this was what he came for; to be bitten by a vampire. But the rest of him was all but frozen in fear.

"Disarm him." The vampiress said; a flat order.

Van Helsing was immediately brought to his knees as several men of the city, including Benedict, swiftly obeyed her command. Van Helsing was soon without all of his firearms and blades; even the small knife tucked inside his boot was taken from him. The men stepped away and looked up to the vampiress to show that her orders had been followed.

She did not look pleased. Benedict looked down at Van Helsing once more to see what weapon he had missed. He followed the vampiress' glare to see the silver chain that hung about Van Helsing's neck. On it was a small, silver cross.

At once, he yanked it off and shoved it into his pocket.

Now that he was thoroughly disarmed, the vampiress approached Van Helsing, who was still on his knees. She grabbed his chin and raised his head up; forcing his eyes to meet hers. It was as if she was searching him, to make sure that he really was the one that had killed Dracula. He glared back at her in rage; fighting once more o keep his wolven anger and reactions at bay. Her touch seemed to make him more vulnerable to his bestial instincts, but he did well to mask them, and keep still.

At last, she broke the eye contact, looking up to Benedict, who stood a ways off behind Van Helsing, all but shaking in fear.

"My master Lucius," She said, "Will offer a trade." Benedict nodded quickly in fear. "He will find his revenge satisfied, for the blood of this man."

"I-I cannot shed blood!" Benedict protested, defending his place as a priest.

The woman smiled; the evil, amused light returning to her eyes. "Then he shall do it for you." She said. Stepping back, she walked back to where they had originally seen her; making ready to leave. "Tonight." She turned back to Benedict and Van Helsing. "You will either bring him to my master's door step." She threatened, "Or you will bring us his head."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I'm very sorry but I do NOT know latin, nor do I claim to. The latin phrases in this next chapter were as good as I could get from an online translator, and yes I KNOW that I've probably butchered it. Especally the grammer. and I'm very, very sorry!! If you know the proper form, I'd love to know it. But you'll have to forgive me for now. i'm also sorry this update was a bit late.

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A bitter wind blew through the mountains. The night was cold. And quiet. Too quiet. Van Helsing tried and failed once more to calm his racing heart. He sat on his knees, hands tied behind his back, waiting for the vampires to take him.

Before him a huge, menacing gate stood. Weather it was made of wood, metal, or stone Van Helsing could not tell; for it was covered in a tick, icy layer of hundreds of years worth of snow. In form, it was not all together unlike the great door to Dracula's manor; but this door, unlike Dracula's, was sunken, or carved, straight into the mountainside.

Nothing else of the vampire's lair could be seen by the outside world: only the entrance. It stood as if the entrance to Hell itself. Dark and threatening, it seemed to suck the light out of the surrounding hills; taking all the life and hope with it. He wondered idly if it was any more or less pleasant during the day; for now, in the dull light of the moon, Van Helsing would have to say it was one of the more nerve wracking things he had ever seen. And he had seen a lot.

There was something about the situation that sent a chill straight to the bones, and Van Helsing could not decide which was worse: Whatever might come out of that huge, dark gate, or the horrible suspense of waiting for it to do so.

He had been waiting for what seemed like hours. The townspeople had left him there, bound and unarmed, just after sundown. And the moon was now rising high up in the sky.

As the soft glow fell on his shoulders, it awakened an even deeper fear in Van Helsing than the fear of his predicament. The fear that he would fail.

In the back of his mind, the wolf awoke. Urging him on to use his power. To wake up. To escape. To run back and punish the villagers. To kill, and feed. No. He could not. He would not. He had to do this. For Anna, if for nothing else.

He thought back to the townspeople. They looked so sad. So very afraid. They had not wished him ill, in fact they had returned to him his silver cross; hoping perhaps that it would help him. He wanted to help them. He was not their enemy. Just their sacrifice. And perhaps their savior.

For the seven billionth time that night, he prayed that God would give him strength.

Not long ago, he saw prayer as something only priests and churchmen did on a regular basis. But right now he was finding it a necessary part of life. Communication with the Most High was certainly an awe-inspiring gift. It gave him strength, because somehow, he knew he was being heard. And he needed that. He did not know what had changed between him and God, but something had. Perhaps he finally understood. He _needed_ the Lord.

Van Helsing's head shot up as he remembered his current situation. What was that? He could have sworn he saw something. Only a shadow perhaps, but something. Something moving. His heart pounded once more, his nerves heightened even farther by the effect of the moon.

There it was again. Van Helsing saw it this time: it was a shadow, wafting over him. The shadow of an all too familiar figure. That of a vampiress. He heard something behind him. Footsteps. Light footsteps making a quiet approach.

Fighting to keep himself still, Van Helsing focused his eyes on the ground before him; trying to ignore the approaching vampiress. _Vampiresses_, he corrected himself, as not one, but _two_ shadows came into view before him.

One on either side of him, he could stand the eerie silence no more.

"What do you want with me?" He asked, his voice deep, as he tried to control both his fear and his inner beast. The two did not mix well.

For a moment, there was no answer. Suddenly, something touched him. Van Helsing flinched; almost spinning himself fully around, as he looked up to whatever it was that lightly caressed his left shoulder. It was the bride he had seen in the town. Her eyes glowed even brighter now with delight, and her mouth was open in a quiet hiss; just enough for her unnatural fangs to be seen. Van Helsing felt something touch his other shoulder.

Whipping around, he found another bride on his right: Wrapped in a much lighter, gold-toned dress, her hair was long and dark, and her eyes gleamed a strange, frightening shade of amber; almost golden themselves. She smiled at him, much like the other bride had done in the village, as she looked him over.

"Is this him, Camelia?" She asked, looking to the other bride. Van Helsing found himself swallowing hard in strange fear at her voice: It was strange, enticing sound, but altogether unnerving.

"Yessss…" Camelia hissed in response, dragging her finger lightly up Van Helsing's shoulder, neck, and down his chin. Her touch sent a cold shiver down his spine. "Yes, this is him." She said. "Come, Rochella, We must get him inside. Out of this bitter cold. Humans cannot stand it as we can." She said the last part at him, smiling evilly, as she looked him straight in the eye: Seeming almost to look through him, straight to the other side.

"Yes, we must…" Rochella smiled with her.

In a moment, Van Helsing was brought up to his feet; both of the Vampiresses grabbing his bound arms behind him. The great door before them opened slowly, seemingly of it's own accord. Van Helsing swallowed hard once more as he was escorted in.

Passing under the dark threshold, he felt the temperature drop several degrees, even though it was already extremely cold outside. As they walked a little farther in, Van Helsing struggled to adjust to the lack of light. Before him, the halls seemed to stretch on forever; disappearing into a deep black hole. Fear seemed to emanate from the abyss before him.

_*BANG*_

Van Helsing spun around as the great door behind him clanged shut, blocking all light from his eyes. His heart, thundering a hundred miles an hour, leapt up into his throat, and his eyes went wide. The Vampiresses disappeared. His breath came in quick, panicked gasps for a few moments as he turned around, desperately searching for anything he could hold to; any light at all. He saw nothing. Stopping for a moment, he struggled to calm himself. It was not working. He had to get a hold of himself!

Taking a moment, he took a few deep breaths, as his eyes struggled to adjust to the light. As he looked, he could see that it was not altogether black in the huge hall: A few high windows let the light glow of the moon pour in, producing a dim light that only made the hall seem larger and more frightening.

All the same, it would take a lot to convince him to take one more step into the darkness.

"_Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha!" _The strange, terrifying laugh of the vampiresses rang off the walls. Van Helsing spun around, his heart jumping again. The sound come from behind him.

_That_ was enough to get him moving.

Stumbling backwards a few paces, Van Helsing almost fell down a small flight of stairs; not able to use his arms to balance. He caught him self, stumbling a few more steps forward, he found himself heading down the huge hall.

There was nothing for it now. He could not go back, so he would move forward.

The next several minutes were full of strange, nerve wracking silence. Even Van Helsing's own footsteps seemed muted, in the normally loud, echoing chamber.

"_Welcome."_ A voice broke the silence. Van Helsing stopped short. He had found his vampire. Now the only question was where _was_ he?

Not a moment later, his questions were answered, as a dark figure dropped, with a flip, from the ceiling.

"I am Lucius. Lucius Von Tanek." The figure said, with a bow. Holding his hands wide spread, Van Helsing could see strange markings on his wrists. His hair fell over his shoulders. It was dark; and cut oddly; ragged, straight, and coming to about his shoulders. A few strands seemed permanently in front of his right eye. His face was young, and smooth; his eyes a vibrant, penetrating green. Clad in a simple, dark, open jacket, his pale skin stood in stark contrast to the dark world about him.

The most noticeable thing about him, though, were his markings. Strange, seemingly self-inflicted scars, burns, tattoos, and brands decorated his forehead, wrists, hands, and chest. Van Helsing almost gasped at the sight of them; recognizing a few of the symbols. They were defiantly of an occultic nature.

He had seen such markings before, and always, they were signs of the darkest evil. Witchcraft. Far more dangerous then the common 'witch' condemned on the streets. In his years of experience, Van Helsing knew how to recognize a man who had been in close dealings with demons. And this man was one of them. He could see it in his eyes.

The thing that actually shocked Van Helsing the most, though, was the man's age. By his looks, he could be no older than twenty. Nineteen was what Van Helsing guessed, by his face. This, combined with the markings made him wonder how long ago the young man actually sold his soul to the Devil, and how long ago he died.

"Gabriel." Van Helsing finally regained his voice, after looking the man over. "Gabriel Van Helsing." He returned the greeting.

"Yes, I know who you are." A wicked smile spread over Lucius' face. "The question is, do you know me?" It was quite apparent that Lucius enjoyed toying with his victims.

"Yes." Van Helsing said. "You are the monster that has been terrorizing the poor villagers nearby."

Lucius glared at him. "_I_ am the lord of this place! The lord of these hills! I own these hills: For _I_ have the power of life and death over them." He said pridefully. "Long ago, I found the true powers of this world; stronger then your 'All-powerful God'" He scoffed. He could see clearly the silver cross that hung about Van Helsing's neck as it glimmered in the near blackness.

"I welcomed the darkness that others shunned: and was granted life, and power. The cost, however high some may say, was but nothing." He said with a smile, bringing a hand up to his jacket, he opened the left side, allowing Van Helsing to see the large scar that crossed over his chest. It was the scar of a mortal wound. "I took my own life, and was granted a new one. Immortality. Eternal life. Is mine."

Van Helsing face was taught with fear and anger, but he tried too keep himself calm, and still allowed his wit to come through. "Hmm…" He said, as if thinking the vampire's words over. "I was expecting someone a little… Older." He said.

Lucius' mouth twitched up in a half-amused grin. "Is a century or two not enough?" He asked. "But come, the night is young, and there is much that must be done."

Van Helsing's brow knotted for a moment, and Lucius smiled. A moment later, the vampire was gone. Van Helsing gasped, taking a step back. Cold hands grabbed him from behind. Holding his bound wrists, he felt someone grab him, pull him close, and slide a knife between his wrists. "We won't be needing these." Lucius whispered dangerously close to his ear, letting him feel his icy breath on the back of his neck. Van Helsing squirmed slightly at the uncomfortable closeness of him and his captor, as Lucius held him a moment longer, a teasing grin upon his face.

"What do you want with me?" Van Helsing asked. "What have I done to you?"

Lucius stopped smiling. In a flash he was, not behind, but standing before Van Helsing, still rather close. "You killed a great man!" He said, his voice flaring with sudden anger. "Count Dracula. The world's first and greatest Vampire. It was he who inspired me. He who first showed the world how darkness could concur death. And that man can live forever. His name shall never be forgotten." He said solemnly. "Yours, however…" His face then lit with a strange, almost exited light. "You will be remembered only as a murderer." He said, his face bright with wicked delight.

Van Helsing's brow crossed, and it was now his turn to glare. "Are you going to kill me?" He asked.

"Kill you?" Lucius almost seemed surprised by the idea. "Kill you, no. No what would be the fun in that?" He asked, gaining once more his smug, eerie grin. "I _could_ kill you, ever so slowly, if I wished." He continued, seeming with every word to come closer to Van Helsing, until by the end he was but inches from the vampire hunter's face. "But I have something better planned for you." He whispered, smiling in a strange, sickening way. Van Helsing was tempted to take a step back, but something seemed to hold him still. "You shall live on. Against your will, perhaps; but live on you will… _Forever_." Lucius said. Van Helsing's eyes went wide at the suggestion. "As my slave." Lucius added. "The proper punishment for such a prideful crime, wouldn't you say?"

As he spoke, Lucius raised his hand slowly, placing it gently on the side of Van Helsing's neck, he smiled, tracing the man's jugular vein, feeling the blood pump through it at an ever-growing rate. Van Helsing flinched at his touch, but could not back away. He seemed frozen in place.

"Yesss…" Lucius took another step closer, and at last, Van Helsing found the power to move: Breaking whatever spell had held him. His arm came up and quickly batted Lucius' hand off of him; shoving the man backwards a few steps. Immediately, Lucius raised his hand and caught Van Helsing's chin firmly.

"None of that." He said calmly. "But come, I am forgetting all that must be done." He said, taking several steps backwards, he walked up a few steps at the other end of the long hall. "Camelia, Rochella." He called his brides. "Prepare him."

Van Helsing's brow crossed for a moment, when out of nowhere, the two brides came and grabbed him again. Forcing him down to his knees, they then removed his large overcoat, his vest, and at last, his shirt. Van Helsing tensed uncomfortably, as he felt their hands stroke his bare skin with a frightening affection. He fought once more to not let his inner beast come out and kill them both, then and there. This night would haunt him in his dreams, he was sure of it.

With some strange, cold, dark substance, they began to paint symbols on his skin. Soon his back and chest bore the same type of demonic symbols that Lucious did. Van Helsing inhaled deeply at the sight of the figures, his eyes going wide. Camelia finished it off by painting one more on his forehead, while Rochella snatched the silver cross once more from his neck. Van Helsing clamped his eyes shut and prayed once more.

As the brides left him, he opened his eyes once more to look for Lucius. The vampire stood several paces off. His brides assisted him also in removing his shirt, and Van Helsing could for the first time see the extent of his cruel demonic markings. His entire back, arms, and chest were covered in them. Twisted, dark signs that Van Helsing did not wish even to look at.

Standing, as if in a trance, Lucius lifted his hands and opened his mouth in a strange chant; his voice seeming twisted, ringing with a false harmony, it was a painful sound in and of itself. "_Dominatio of Abyssus , adveho unto mihi!"_ He chanted. Van Helsing could make little sense of the words, which, he guessed, were some form of Latin. He could however, recognize one word: _Hell_. Lucius was summoning the power of Hell.

As the words exited his mouth, flames leapt up in the dark hall. Van Helsing jumped with a start, off of his knees, as he found that he was entrapped. All around him, in a small circle, was a ring of tall flames. He had not seen the strange, ceremonial ring he stood in before, but it was quite obvious now. Strange markings, much like those on Lucius' flesh, were engraved on the floor, all around him. And he stood in the center of the evil design.

"_Tribuo mihi vox , tribuo mihi vita_" Lucius continued to chant. Through the flames, Van Helsing could see him now, walking, as if in a trance, towards him. His eyes blazed with a terrifying, hellish fire. The markings on his flesh stood out darkly on his pale skin; and stood out through the fire.

The strange, demonic symbols seemed to burn themselves into Van Helsing's eyes and memory, as those on his own flesh seemed to burn his skin. Now in the light of the flame, he could tell that they were painted in thick red blood. The words of Lucius' chant seeped into his brain and taunted his soul. He seemed almost to be descending to hell itself.

"_Deus salvifico mihi_!" Van Helsing tried to yell; one of the few Latin phrases his terror-filled mind complied to remember. _God save me._

"Silence!" He heard Lucius' voice shout; almost shrieking at the name of God.

Van Helsing's eyes widened, as Lucius at last approached him, stepping through the flames, his eyes ablaze with the lust for blood. He reached a hand forward, grabbing Van Helsing by the chin.

As if a knife to his throat, or a hard touch on his pressure points, Lucius' touch seemed almost to put him under a spell, forcing him down to his knees once more.

"_Tribuo mihi vox , tribuo mihi vita."_ Lucius chanted once more, preparing to end Van Helsing's mortal life, he grabbed his neck with both hands. Slipping his thumbs under the man's chin, he tilted it up, as he leaned down.

His two brides stood behind him. In their hands was a bowl of bright crimson blood. They waited to give Van Helsing his first taste of his new curse.

Van Helsing's heart was racing a million miles a minute. He closed his eyes, fighting off all of his fear. This was why he came. He had to this. The war between him and his wolven instincts was almost unbearable now. He had to get out!

"_Ah_-!" Van Helsing's momentary scream of pain was cut off by shock, like a vice, as Lucius' fangs pierced his tender flesh.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This is the second to last chapter I have written so far. So I'm sorry if updates will be coming very slowly. i'm having trouble finishing this one, but I promised I'd finish it, so I will.

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Crimson blood flowed freely now from Van Helsing's wound. Pouring down his bare skin, it covered his shoulder, chest, and arm. Dangerous amounts of the life giving fluid were now lost. But an unnatural power held him, keeping him alive. His breath came in short, shallow, shaky gasps. His whole body trembled.

_God save me!_ Van Helsing's mind shouted again. This was his test. He had to find the strength to win. Sharp, piecing pain rifled through his entire body. He felt the horrible venom of the Vampire rushing into his bloodstream. It awakened something deep within him, and deprived him of all control over his body. His instincts at last won their fight.

A low growl rose in his throat, as his left hand broke whatever spell held him paralyzed, shooting up and grabbing Lucius roughly by the throat. His fingers closed tightly around their target as he felt strange, primal power flowing though him. With one swift movement, he yanked Lucius off of him and tossed the young Vampire aside; through the ring of flames, onto the cold stone floor. As the trance-like spell was broken, the flames died, and the hall was trapped once more in nothing but the eerie light of the moon.

Van Helsing's right hand went automatically to his neck, pressing hard against the wound there, it too was coated in blood.

Bewildered as he was, Lucius did not take long to retaliate. Within moments, he raised himself up, and, with an all too familiar screech, assumed his monstrous form; a beast from Hell. He leapt upon Van Helsing, throwing the man to the ground and landing atop him.

Huge hands wrapped themselves around Van Helsing's horribly wounded neck, as his own were pushed aside to sprawl on the floor where he landed.

Crying out in pain, Van Helsing let his curse consume him. With the light of the moon spilling in through the high windows, he felt himself change, once again, into a wolf. His eyesight narrowed and sharpened in the dark, his arms and legs grew more and more powerful, and his mouth opened in a beastly growl, baring sharp wolven fangs.

Pushing himself up off the floor, and Lucius with him, he lashed out, tossing the vampire back once more with a growl, as he lifted his head to the moon, and let out a long, hungry howl.

Lucius screeched again, as Van Helsing rose to his feet and pounced on the downed vampire. The two grappled treacherously on the floor, Lucius' wings useless, as Van Helsing overpowered him. The smell of blood spurred them both on.

In a swift blur of motion, Van Helsing's teeth at last met flesh, much like Lucius' had moments ago. But this time with murderous intent, and beastly rage.

Van Helsing could heard the two brides, crying somewhere in agony, as he cut off their lives by destroying their lord. The strangely sweet taste of blood upon his lips heightened his rage more than ever before.

"_OOOOWWROOOOOOOOOOOO_!" A dark howl rang through the halls. The beast had its first kill.

Van Helsing fought desperately to take back control now, but it was no use. The taste of blood spurred him on, as he ran back to the door behind him; his sight heightened in the darkness, he jumped up on one of the large pillars in the great stone hall, leaping up the wall, through one of the high windows, and sprang down to the ground below.

The beast had been released. And now was his time to hunt. Landing hard in the snow, he absorbed the landing, lowering himself to all fours, he looked around for his next victim.

-- -- --

The night was dark, but it did not matter. The faint light of the moon was all he needed to hunt. His keen sense of smell had already picked out his next meal.

Two human figures made their way slowly through the rough valley. Unaware of what waited in the darkness. One of them held out a lantern: but its pitiful light seemed strangely consumed by the dark night. Or perhaps that was just how it appeared through the eyes of a monster.

"Do you think he's still in there?" One of the brown cloaked men asked hesitantly, holding his lantern high as they came to the large gates of Lucius' giant lair.

"I don't know." The other said, pressing his ear against the huge, ice covered door.

The Werewolf dropped down silently behind them from the trees above. Ducking behind a small hill of snow, he waited, sizing up his prey.

Hungry eyes looked on, as both of the men tried to hear any hint of sound from the other side of the door.

"Do you think it worked?" One asked, pulling away from the door.

"I hope so." The other said. "If not… I should fear the worst." His tone was grave.

A quiet, low, haunting growl rose behind them.

One of the men turned, a moment before impact.

With a huge roar, the beast leapt at them: Teeth and claws barred.

"Woah!" The man who had turned yelled, leaping aside. He caught the other man on his way down: shoving him out of the beast's way.

The Werewolf let out an odd cry as he missed his prey: landing on the icy steps of Lucius' palace, he slid sideways with his fall.

"Van Helsing?!" One of the men called. The other closed his eyes for a moment, uttering an urgent prayer.

The werewolf's head made rough impact with the huge doors behind him, as he slid into them, full speed from his pounce. He let out the sound of a stricken dog, as the force knocked the wind out of him, and knocked some sense back into his brain.

Van Helsing fought desperately for control, begging the moon to hide its face, and ordering his mad rage and blood lust to subside.

"BACK!" He managed to bark out at the two men, even in his wolven form. Both of them stumbled back a few frightened paces.

Van Helsing turned away from them, still lying on the ice, he fought desperately to get a hold on himself. The smell of his own blood was maddening. And the effect of the vampire venom in him was still taking hold.

At last, the large moon hid itself behind a thick blanket of could. Van Helsing exhaled sharply; collapsing on himself, as his body returned to its natural form. Dark fur fell from trembling, bare shoulders. He shivered miserably, shaking from much more than just the cold.

"Van Helsing?" He heard one of the men say again, coming up behind him, he laid a wary hand on the man's shoulder.

Carl gasped as he rolled his old friend over; seeing the huge wound on the side of his neck. The man should have been dead!

"How is he?" Stephen ran up behind him, as Carl dug through his bag for the bandages.

The two friars had come looking for their friend; hoping and praying that he had made it through the night.

"He has been bitten." Carl said, beginning to wrap of Van Helsing's neck. Stephen gasped at the wound. "But that is what he was here for." Carl added.

"Caaaarl…" Van Helsing groaned in pain.

"Yes, it's me- You really should take better care of yourself you know." The friar answered, with a somehow slightly amused smile. It faded quickly.

"Carl!" Van Helsing's world finally snapped back into place. What was the man doing? "No. Carl. Leave me alone. You must… You must get away!" He said fervently.

"What are you talking about, you-"

"No!" Van Helsing interrupted. "No, I've lost control." He looked up to the moon, expecting for it to come out again at any moment. "You must get away! I cannot hold out until the morn."

"No." Stephen's voice came into the argument. "We are here to help you." He said.

Van Helsing looked up to the other friar, who looked him in the eye. There would be no swaying these two.

"Then please." Van Helsing begged them, as Carl finished wrapping his deadly wound. "I beg you, restrain me. I don't think I can make it back to Transylvania like this." He said.

Carl nodded. Why hadn't he thought of that? "There might be something in there that could help us." He suggested, looking towards the door of Lucius' hall.

Van Helsing nodded, an in moments was on his feet. His heart was pounding a mile a minute, as a huge rush of adrenaline pumped through his veins. They had to do this quickly. There could be no delay.

The strange, animal strength and anger that was still rising in him took momentary control, as he slammed himself into the door in effort to open it.

"Van Helsing…" Stephen's voice came from behind him. The man looked up quickly: urgency written in his eyes. "Pull." The friar said, grasping the huge metal ring on the door, meant to open it.

"Right…" Van Helsing muttered, grasping the ring, he tugged on it with all his strength, a low growl threatening to rise in his throat. With a loud bang, the huge door opened slightly.

"Come on!" Van Helsing called, shoving the door open just enough to let himself in; he entered the darkness.

Stephen entered after him, and at last Carl, holding his lantern. The darkness of the huge hall seemed almost to consume the light of the small flame.

"Come on!" Van Helsing beckoned them again; passing by the dead form of the vampire he had slain. The two friars both gasped at the sight.

All around them, the lantern illuminated the dark, demonic signs etched into the floor. Both of the churchmen were taken aback by the sight; picking their way carefully, and fearfully, across the dark lines on the ground.

"There has to be something around here…" Van Helsing went quickly down one dark hallway after another, checking doors and side rooms for anything that might help him.

"Over here!" Stephen called from behind him. As Carl came up with the light, he opened a small door near the end of the hall. Beyond it was a dark, spiral staircase leading down.

In moments, the three men were even deeper down in the mountain side. No light, save Carl's lantern, came into this hole of a room.

"What is this place?" Carl wondered aloud.

"You probably don't want to know." Van Helsing answered, just as Carl held his light up to a strange shape on the wall. A skeleton hung there, chained still to the wall.

"Gaah!" Carl yelled in fear and disgust, stumbling back a ways. "What are we doing down here?!" He asked; a sudden, urgent longing to go back up the stairs.

"Come on, there must be something…" Van Helsing ignored his friend, as he looked around the dark room. "Aha!" He said at last, grasping a large, dark chain.

"Here, help me…" He told them quickly, as he began to fasten himself into the large, heavy manacles. The two cuffs were not connected to each other, but each, by a long chain, to the wall. By the time he was done, Van Helsing stood, his arms spread, but not stretched out to his sides, held slightly above his head. It was not the most comfortable position, but he felt it was the safest.

"There." Van Helsing let out a huge sigh of relief. "Now, Carl, we need- " He was cut off, suddenly seeming to choke on his own word.

"Van Helsing?" Carl asked, worry written on his face. Van Helsing lifted his wide, frightened eyes to look up towards the stairway and door they had entered through. Faint hints of moonlight spilled in. Carl gasped, turning back to his friend.

Van Helsing slammed his eyes shut, and clenched his teeth and hands as the all too familiar pain washed over him. But this time, there was more. It was not the same old fight. The beastly creature within him was itself at war with a far deadlier, far darker foe. The demonic blood-lust of a vampire reared its horrifying head. With a cry, the man was thrown into agony, trying desperately to keep a hold on himself.

'_An almost unstoppable evil'_ Carl's words rang in his head. No, he would not give in. Never! He could not! It took every ounce of his strength to fight off the new poison, and the only sane part of him left was losing the war.

Stephen and Carl could only watch, and pray, as the Van Helsing was thrown into odd convulsions in his chains. His muscles tensed unnaturally as he thrashed around wildly, and his eyes burned with agony. Van Helsing let out a cry, brutally forcing his mind into submission.

"Carl!" He managed to force the words out, closing his eyes quickly and crumbling in on himself again. He prayed desperately that the chains would hold. "The antidote!" He struggled to yell. "Take it!"

"B-b-but Van Helsing! I can't!" Carl yelled, feeling extremely shamed for not being able to help. "The antidote will not fully be formed until your first full moon! You cannot fight off the venom until then!" He said. Beside him, Stephen could only look on, eyes wide, as Van Helsing writhed in pain.

Van Helsing took a few great breaths, trying to deal with the news. He could never last that long. "Carl…" He asked once more. "Where is that silver stake I gave you?" he asked.

"It's.... Right… Here…." Carl said, slowly realizing what his friend was asking. "No!" He yelled at once. "Van Helsing, please, you've made me almost kill you once, don't do it again!" The friar begged.

Van Helsing clamped his eyes shut once more and rocked back in pain. He nodded quickly. If he was to die now, this would all be in vain. And Anna would be lost.

"Go, then." Van Helsing's eyes reopened with a frightening, monstrous gleam to them. Both of the friars took a step back. "GO!" Van Helsing yelled at them. "GET OUT!" His shout turned into a growl. "_RAAAAAAAAHH_!" Van Helsing shouted in anger and pain, pulling madly at his chains until both of his wrists were bleeding. Still, he prayed that the bonds held. His muscles tensed oddly, and he could feel himself turning into a wolf. His skin seemed to split open to make way for dark, course fur. As he opened his mouth in a roar once more, he could feel his own mouth and teeth stretching like that of a vampire. It was perhaps the most sickening feeling he had ever had.

Van Helsing at last lost control to the two beasts within him. He would let them fight out the war. Carl said that the wolf in him would win; yet not fully until the full moon. All the same, the conflict wracked his body with agonizing pain.

It would be a long, dark, painful night.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Very sorry about the huge delay over the holidays. Thought I should get this posted before school starts back up. It's the last full chapter I have so I'll have to ask your forgiveness again for even more delays. I hope you like it, and I hope you all had a merry Christmas! ~Kel

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"Van Helsing?" A soft, worried voice came down into the dark room.

The night was over; the moon had set. The sun had risen, and Carl made his way cautiously into the deepest room of Lucius' dark cavern.

The pale light of dawn snuck into the large chamber behind him. Most winter days in this area, the sun would not shine so brightly; masked by cloud. But this morning the sun shone. It was as if the death of Lucius had brought a new light unto the village and mountains. Still, in the dark cave-like palace, very little light was allowed. Carl held his lantern high once more, as he descended the steps.

Stephen had gone back to the village to prepare them passage to Transylvania. They knew that they would need to get there before the full moon; for both Van Helsing and Anna's sake. Carl had told Stephen the whole story of Van Helsing, Anna, Velkan, Dracula, and even Frankenstein's monster. The friar took the unbelievable tale quite well. Of course, that was to be expected, he supposed, since the man had seen Van Helsing in such a state as he was.

"Van Helsing?" Carl called again as he made it down into the dark room. A Dark form could be seen in the corner. Carl lifted his light to see it.

Van Helsing slumped in his chains; held up only by his arms. He looked defeated in every way. Blood streamed down his arms from where his wrists were rubbed raw and bloody. The mortal wound on his neck also dripped red fluid; pooling in crimson stains about his feet. Around him, dark fur lay shed, mixing with his blood.

The man's bare skin was covered in clammy sweat, and tears stained his face. His dark hair hung about his shoulders, and his eyes were closed.

Carl gasped slightly at the sight of his friend.

"Van Helsing?" He asked again, stepping towards his friend. This time his voice bore a frightened urgency. He placed a hesitant hand on the man's shoulder.

Van Helsing made no response.

Biting his lip, Carl quickly slipped his hand under the man's chin; lifting his face up, and checking his pulse.

The man's skin was feverish, but as Carl felt for his pulse, he could not find one. The friar's motions became more frantic. "Van Helsing!" He called, in effort to wake the man.

There was no response.

Almost shaking for the strange fear that had set in, Carl grabbed the keys to his friend's chains that they had found last night. He unlocked the manacles quickly, and Van Helsing slumped to the floor, motionless.

Carl's eyes were wide with fear, as he knelt by the man's side. It was not supposed to be like this! The friar knelt quickly by his friend, worry etched in every line of his face as he looked him over. His skin was a pale, almost deathly white. Carl could only wonder what had happened. Was Van Helsing a man, beast, or vampire? Or had true death taken him at last?

Carl's mouth hung slightly in shock as two small tears made their way down his face. As he held Van Helsing in his arms, the reality set in that the man might actually have died. Carl pulled Van Helsing's limp, cold body into a sad embrace, as he said a short prayer once more.

Looking up to the doorway, Carl at last pulled away and stood to his feet. He would need to get the man out of this horrid, dark place. Struggling to lift his friend's limp body, he half carried, half dragged the man to the stairs and then worked to lift him up them.

Carl sniffed, as tears filled his eyes. He never thought would come to this. Van Helsing was so strong. Stopping for a moment, Carl got a better grip of his old friend as they made it up the stairs and into the main hall. It took all his strength to move the limp body towards the huge door.

Golden light spilled in through the small windows high over head. It was a rare sight in the vampire's lair. But all its beauty seemed dimmed. Carl squinted in the light, tears falling from his eyes.

He set the man down against one of the shadowed pillars, leaning his limp form into a slumped sitting position, and then went over to find the man's shirt and jacket, which he had been stripped off the night before. He found them in a dark bundle on the floor. As he picked them up, Van Helsing's silver cross fell to the ground. The tiny gleam caught Carl's eye, and he picked it up, stopping for a moment to look at it.

The small silver pendant shone beautifully in the sunlight. But somehow even this gleaming flicker of hope did nothing to lift Carl's spirits.

Carl sighed, sitting in the awful, empty silence for a few moments more, pondering what he should do. He did not even know if Van Helsing was dead or alive, but there was nothing he could do. He wished he had never gotten involved in this. He should have just become a normal friar like Stephen. Carl slowly shook his head at the idea, looking at the small cross in his hand once more; he closed his eyes and offered up a silent prayer.

"_**AAAAAAAAAAHHH!**_"Carl jumped at the sudden sound. A screech of agony echoed through the halls. Fear spiking in his heart, Carl spun around in fear to see what was there.

Carl's heart hammered a mile a minute as the scene unfolded before his eyes. Van Helsing's body reeled. The man screamed in pain. Carl's eyes widened as the dead man came to life. He had fallen over from his slumped position, and slipped at last into the direct light of the rising sun.

"Van Helsing?!" He asked, bewildered. He dropped everything he was holding and rushed to Van Helsing's side.

Van Helsing screamed once more, lashing out at unseen chains, he rolled on the floor, out of the light.

As soon as he lay in shadow, he collapsed once more. His shoulders shook in pain, as he panted and gasped for breath, his dark hair once more covering his face.

"Van Helsing!" Carl was beside the man once more in less than a moment. "You're alive!"

Van Helsing struggled to lift himself to his hands and knees. Horrible pain was written on his face and in his eyes.

"What happened?!" Carl asked quickly.

"Th-the…. Light…." Van Helsing struggled to say. "The sunlight…" He ground out. With all of his remaining strength, he dragged his bloody, broken body towards it. Entering in once more, his eyes opened in agonizing pain. The light burned his eyes and flesh, but he would not leave. He could not. He needed this.

Realization dawned on Carl. Vampires could not withstand the light of the sun.

"Thank you." A faint whisper was forced from Van Helsing's lips as he collapsed to the ground. He had no strength to raise himself.

Van Helsing's eyes closed once more. Immediately, the pain came back. The horrible, searing, freezing pain. And the darkness. The utter, hopeless, starless black oblivion. He had to escape! He could not withstand this torture again. He struggled desperately to open his eyes. It was not working.

"Van Helsing?" Carl's voice broke the spell, as he shook his friend, worry etched once more in his eyes. Van Helsing's eyes sprang open. "Are you alright?" The friar asked, pulling the man out of the light, which obviously hurt his friend.

"I….I don't know…" Van Helsing answered slowly. "Here, help me…" He said, forcing himself back into the bright sunlight that had first awakened him.

Van Helsing's whole body tensed in searing pain as he entered the light. But he did not stop. He did not close his eyes. Tears of pain formed as the beasts in him were driven back. But they were joined by tears of joy.

As Van Helsing lifted his eyes to the bright, hope filled skies of morning, Carl wrapped the man's large over coat about his shoulders. Van Helsing at once pulled the jacket close; feeling somewhat protected at last.

"Are you alright?" Carl asked again.

Van Helsing looked away, unable to meet his friend's gaze. "No." He whispered. The curse he had brought upon himself was more terrible than he could have ever imagined. Darkness. Deep, demonic darkness. And the terrible lust for human blood. It was even more maddening than being a wolf.

When he was a beast, he had no control. He did not know what he was doing in his rage, and remembered it only as a bad dream. But when the vampirism took over him, he was all too aware of his actions. They haunted him. And always the dark shadows of his mind toyed with his tortured thoughts. Every time he saw the sun, something deep within him cursed. And every time he saw a human, an impulse almost stronger than his beastly rage took over his body and vision. Even now he forced himself to divert his gaze from Carl. His heart cursed him once more for ever dreaming of hurting the man.

An odd, awkward silence followed. Not knowing what to say, Carl slowly stood back to his feet and gathered Van Helsing's clothes once again. With a grim smile, he handed the bundle back to his friend, also pulling out yet another pair of pants for the man from his own pack.

Grief and fear shone in Van Helsing's eyes so strongly that Carl was almost taken back. He swallowed involuntarily as Van Helsing took the bundle of clothes from him.

"Thank you." Van Helsing said flatly. As he took the bundle in his hands, he looked down at the small silver cross that lay on it. Carl had intentionally placed it on the top of the pile. As the small piece of silver glimmered in the sun, something in him reeled. But something even deeper within him rejoiced.

The muscles in his arm tensed and locked up again as he grasped the small chain in his hands and held the cross at eye level. He swallowed hard. Breathing deeply, he stood to his feet and slowly stepped out of the light.

As the light of the sun left him, his world seemed to narrow and darken tenfold. All of his focus locked on to the cross, and his mind screamed to God for aid.

Red blood dripped from his wrist, falling before his eyes. Van Helsing swallowed hard and reeled back, stumbling back into the light as his body's madness began to take hold. In a flash, he caught the cross pendant up in his hand, balled his fist, and, almost without his own knowledge, lifted his own bloody wrist to his mouth. For half an instant, the sweet taste touched his thirsty lips.

"Van Helsing!" Carl cried as his friend crashed to the ground, in the light of the sun once more. Van Helsing blinked, jerking his hand away, as if taken from a trance. Tears forming in his eyes, his hand opened slowly to once more reveal the small silver cross. Closing his fist, he clamped his eyes shut, reaching out to God once more.

For a while, Carl simply watched. He did not know what to do. He did not know if there was anything that could be done.

"Van Helsing?" His timid voice broke the silence at long last. "Do you… need help?" He did not know what to say.

Van Helsing did not open his eyes, but instead closed them tighter. He sat for a moment, contemplating what he was about to say. "I need…_to feed_." He said slowly, fighting against the low growl that threatened to rise in his throat. Carl was once more taken aback by the raw fear and sorrow he saw as Van Helsing opened his eyes.

The friar had no words to say. There was nothing he could say. He could never understand the extreme, sickly need Van Helsing felt. But he could not agree to let the man harm anyone. He knew Van Helsing would never want that.

"Let's go outside." He said simply. "First – put on some clothes!"

~*~

Van Helsing breathed the cold air in deeply. The clean air brightened his spirits. It was good to be outside Lucius' cave. Now in full sunlight, he felt a blessed relief from his curse. He donned his dark clothes once more, complete with hat and coat, and felt for the first time in what seemed like ages to be himself.

Carl had bandaged his wrists and neck, but Van Helsing still tried not to look at them, for fear he might catch of glimpse of the human blood.

Van Helsing put a cautious hand up to his neck, feeling first the bandage there, and then feeling for his own pulse. He found it, steady and unshaken. Not sped up like a wolf nor slowed like a vampire. An indescribable wave of thankfulness washed over him, as Carl placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.

"Feeling better?" The friar asked with a smile.

"Much." Was the short reply. Without need to discuss their next course of action, he two headed down the mountain towards the town.

After a long, but strangely relaxing trek out of the hills, they came to the edge of the town. Van Helsing kept his hat down and his scarf about his neck as they entered, but it seemed that the people were secretly waiting for his return – or lack thereof. He had been their last hope against Lucius.

Heads turned as he walked buy. Van Helsing tried to ignore them, but they became only more frequent and persistent as Carl led him deeper into the city to where Stephen was preparing their passage.

The small church was just ahead, but Van Helsing stopped in his tracks. "Carl." His voice was tense and low. Carl turned to him questioningly, trying his hardest to hurry the man out of the crowd. Van Helsing swallowed hard. He could smell it.

All of his senses seemed to be peaked under his curse, but none were more maddening than his sense of smell. And right now, it was about to dive him insane. The main square of the city was lined with shops and craftsman's stores. Not the least of which was the butcher's shop.

Carl's eyes followed Van Helsing's hard gaze towards the small shop. He closed his eyes and almost cursed. Why did this type of thing have to happen? And why now? Practically the whole town was watching them, weather secretly or not. Carl could not have Van Helsing lose control now.

"I'll get it for you." Carl grabbed his friend by the arm and tried to drag him away. The strong man would not budge. "But you can't go in there." The friar continued. "Go to the church. Stephen is in there… I'll get something for you and be back as soon as I can." Carl told him, at last drawing the hungry man's gaze away from the fresh meats. He then dragged him halfway to the church and shoved him towards it.

Van Helsing closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before quickly running up the many steps to the small church's door.

He pushed the door open without knocking and looked around. No one. Pulling his coat tighter around himself, he walked further into the all too quiet room. He needed to find Stephen before Benedict found him.

"_You_..." An all too familiar voice echoed in the small sanctuary just as Van Helsing was about to leave the room. Freezing, he visibly flinched at the words. He was too late. He could not handle this. Not now.

"You've returned." Benedict stepped into the room as Van Helsing turned to face him. The old man seemed unfazed by the events and still glared hard at the man across from him.

Van Helsing did not say a word. Swallowing hard, he held his gaze on Benedict, as the man came closer to him. The murderous rage had left the priest's eyes, but the frightening anger still remained, along with the ever-present look of scorn and suspicion.

"What of Lucius?" He asked shortly.

"He..." Van Helsing struggled to speak. His entire body stiffened, as something sinister taunted his mind. He hated this man. Priest or not, he deserved to die. Some sickly voice told him that Benedict's blood would be sweet. Sweet revenge. Closing his eyes, he could not finish his sentence; fighting his own silent battle once more.

He had to. He was starved and thirsty. No one would miss this low-life of a clergyman. But he could not. He would not. He refused to take a life, not even this man's life. It would destroy him to give in. But he had to.

"He _what_, man!?" Benedict shouted loudly, anger ringing in his voice. The shout ripped through Van Helsing's thoughts, seeming to decide the debate for him. The dangerous man's eyes sprang open and narrowed on his prey.

Practically leaping on the old man, he knocked him to the ground. A scream of shock rose to accompany a beastly roar.

~*~*~*~

"Yes, as fresh as you have." Carl told the stout man across the counter. "As much this will buy." He placed a small bag of coins on the table. The man eyed the gold with a grim smile and went to the back of his store to begin digging. It was not every day that a man came in looking for quantity rather than quality, and for once he felt no shame in selling the not-so-clean parts of the animal.

"Will beef do?" He shouted back over his shoulder as he searched through the racks.

"Perfect." Carl told him. There was a deep urgency in the friar's voice.

At last, the man came back to the counter holding two very messy yet good sized chunks of meat he had just cut off. "Fresh as can be means not totally cleaned and dried yet, mind you." He told Carl. The man nodded, not put off at all by the messy wetness as the butcher placed both pieces on his scales.

"Seein' as these aren't the finest cuts, I'll give you both for that bag." He said.

Carl hurriedly nodded and worked to wrap and grab both the cuts with a hurried "Thank you."

"Better hurry home - that paper won't hold too long like that." The butcher's brow knotted slightly as Carl tried to wrap the mess in paper that was meant for much dryer meat. But he could hardly get a word in before the friar was out the door. "Pleasure doing business with you!" he tried to shout, but was not sure the younger man could even hear him.

Just as Carl stepped out of the door, a shout came to his ears. Gasping, he looked towards the church and prayed he was not too late. "Hold on, Van Helsing..." He whispered to himself as he ran towards the front steps.

"Carl!" Stephen's voice came from his right as he began his accent."Carl, you can't give that to him now. It will only make him hungrier! Wait until we're ready to go." Coming around the corner of the church, Stephen intercepted Carl, grabbing his arm and quickly re-directing him around the back. "I'll take this half to the train station - I prepared for us to ride back in a cargo container. Just this year they opened a shipping rail through the mountains. It should get us there in one piece, but it'll be quite a trip." He explained, already on his way to the station with half of the meat Carl had purchased. "Don't get him hungry until we can give him the rest. And the back door is open!" He called over his shoulder, apparently still unaware of Carl's cause for concern.

For a moment, Carl could only stand there, not quite sure what had just happened. But as soon as he registered what his friend said, he turned to find the back door to the church, still desperate to stop whatever might have been happening on the other side.

As he grabbed the metal handle, Carl heard another low growl from the other side.

"You deserve to die." He heard Van Helsing's grind a threat through his teeth.

"Please!" Benedict's voice came quickly after. "Please! Have mercy!"

Van Helsing only growled in response, and Carl could hear Benedict give a small cough. Fumbling with the handle, he at last let himself in and saw what was going on.

Van Helsing leaned over a helpless figure on the ground, pinning his right hand down and holding a death grip on the man's throat. Benedict stared up at him in pure panic. His left hand tried desperately to pry away Van Helsing's super human grip, pulling at his tense fingers in vain.

"Van Helsing!" Carl's voice mixed into the scene, but did nothing to break the tension. The Werewolf paid him no heed, not even seeming to hear.

"I should kill you." He ground out, tightening his grip again.

Benedict could not even beg anymore, barley able to breathe.

Hands shaking with adrenaline, Van Helsing continued to stare daggers at the man under him, literally shaking as the battle raged on within him. He had to stop. He could not give in. His deep, snarling breaths began to shake as he tried harder to make himself let go.

As his fingers dug into Benedict's neck with beastly force, his fingernails dug deeper into the man's flesh. All too soon, a thin line of blood appeared.

Opening his mouth and all but lunging forward, Van Helsing let out a great snarl to stop himself from sinking his teeth in then and there. Dear God, he could not do this!

Beside him, Carl grew more and more frightened. His attempts to dissuade Van Helsing seemed all together worthless. But he could not let this happen.

"Stop!" The friar yelled at the top of his lungs. Still gripping the meat in his hands, he physically shoved Van Helsing away, throwing his entire weight at the man to knock him off. The next few seconds were a blur. With another great growl, Van Helsing dropped Benedict and grabbed for Carl. Rolling over him, the wolf grabbed at his new attacker, and his super-human grip found purchase in soft flesh.

Carl did his best to push Van Helsing off of him, as the Werepyre instinctively set his teeth into his newest catch. Holding the meat he carried before him like a shield and a peace offering, Carl had dissuaded his friend's attacks.

Ripping a fresh, dripping chunk of flesh from his newest meal, Van Helsing looked and seemed all together like an animal as he tore and ate the raw meat, swallowing the blood with it.

After several mouthfuls, Van Helsing suddenly stopped. What was he doing? Looking down at his hands, his gaze filled with horror at the blood on them. What had he done? He looked quickly up to the men that stood around him. Carl and Benedict were both standing there, unharmed.

"It's okay, Van Helsing..." Carl said cautiously. He did not know why Van Helsing had stopped, and he was praying that it was not so that he could taste the sweeter meat of human flesh.

"No..." Came the shaky, whispered reply. Van Helsing could only continue to stare down at his meal. He could not do this. He was feeding the beast. "I... I can't..." Van Helsing stuttered, a wave of nausea seeming to wash over him.

"Van Helsing?" Carl was confused. Only Benedict seemed to understand.

"_'And wherever you live, you must not eat the blood of any bird or animal.' 'I will set my face against that person who eats blood and will cut him off from his people._'" Benedict quoted in a bold voice. The script was straight out of the Bible, in the book of Isaiah, and Van Helsing recognized it.

Looking up at last, Van Helsing's eyes met Benedicts with more terrified regret than the clergyman could ever have expected. "No...." Van Helsing could only stutter. "No!" He looked down and fumbled to draw out his small silver cross. His blood covered fingers drew it out, staining the silver cross and the chain. The marring blood of his sin now stained the cross of his forgiveness. It always had, but the sight was one he could not bear. A new wave of horror and nausea washing over him, Van Helsing turned away and bent over once more; vomiting up the blood he had swallowed.

Carl was at once on his knees to help his friend, and even Benedict looked on with pity.

Van Helsing shakily wiped the blood off of his mouth, the sickly sweet taste coming once more to tempt his parched throat and tongue. His body screamed at him that he needed more blood. But he fought to conquer it, retching once more and cleansing his stomach of more crimson fluid.

Tears streaking his face for the agony he forced on his own body, Van Helsing fought to master his hunger and vowed that it would not master him. Werewolf he could handle. But Vampire he was not.

"Are you alright?" Carl asked, placing a hand on his friend's shaking shoulder as the man sat back on his heels, wiping the blood from his mouth once more.

"Here, give him this..." Benedict came with a glass of water he gone to fetch. Carl helped Van Helsing sip it slowly; cleaning his mouth of all remaining blood.

"Thank you." Van Helsing tried to whisper to the man he had almost killed, and the man that had almost killed him. Benedict could only nod. Van Helsing had surprised him by his reaction to the scripture, the cross, and the blood. The old priest could barely think of the man as the killer from London anymore, or even the creature that left fresh scars on his still pained throat. Only as a mystery, one he might never figure out.

"Come on - Stephen's waiting for us at the train." Carl tried to get Van Helsing up on his feet. The man nodded but had to take his time standing, the nausea still spinning in his head. "I'm sorry about the mess." Carl then turned to Benedict. The man did not even reply, still wondering about Van Helsing.

As the two walked back out of the church, Van Helsing worked hard just to stay standing. He kept his head down, and his gaze steady. Focusing on Carl's footsteps in front of him, he walked in the imprints the friar left in the snow.

A wide path began to clear around them, as the townsmen seemed only able to silently stare as the man they had given over to death itself walked by. Carl and Van Helsing both did their best to ignore them, but it only got harder as they went on. Van Helsing's deathly appetite still growled within him. He could not look at their faces, lest the thought of blood's sweet, forbidden taste would rise in mouth once more.

"There you are!" Stephen's voice called at last. Van Helsing did not lift his eyes to meet the friar's. He allowed Carl to do the talking.

"Sorry for the delay, we... had a run in with Benedict." The friar told him hesitantly as Stephen guided them down the row of train cars that sat still at the station. The train was loading supplies to be shipped and traded with Romania and other surrounding areas, and would remain at the station for a while. Stephen had made all the arrangements they would need to hitch a ride.

"I'm sorry..." The friar said, still walking quickly down the row of cars. "I should have warned him or something... I hope... nothing..." He looked questioningly towards the man he led. Van Helsing was practically rocking back and forth to keep himself calm.

"No one was injured." Carl said flatly. "But he's still hungry." He whispered to Stephen, trying not to set off Van Helsing in any way.

Stephen nodded. "As soon as we get to the car, he can have the other half."

Van Helsing stopped in his tracks.

"Van... Helsing?" Carl questioned worriedly.

"No." Van Helsing finally brought his eyes up to Stephen. A sudden fear came to the friar's face at his stern voice. "Cook it first. No blood." He told the friar. It would not a request, it was a demand. Stephen nodded slowly. He did not understand the order, but he respected it.

"Very well, but let's get you in the car first." Stephen said at last, turning to continue on down the line. At last they arrived at a car that looked just like all the others. Stephen and Carl worked to open the large sliding door, and Stephen hoisted himself in, helping Carl up after him. The friar put a hand down to Van Helsing, but the super-human man got up without any trouble.

The car, on the outside, looked like any other. It was made mostly of wood, and was a simple rectangular design. But on the inside, Van Helsing could see that the walls were partially re-enforced with iron. In the middle, where a cargo net would normally be mounted to keep cargo from shifting, were mounted four strong chains. One from each corner of the box. Van Helsing looked them over, his gaze somewhere between hopeful and skeptical. He wanted to believe that these would hold him, but he no longer knew his own strength.

"We'll be staying with you in the car." Stephen told him. Van Helsing turned with a questioning gaze. "Yes, that's right, I'm coming with you. And Carl and I agreed that it would be safer for everyone if we remained with you." He said. "One at each end of the car. I've brought in blankets, food, and other supplies. Including medical supplies." He continued. "Anything else before we get you something to eat?" He asked.

"Yeah..." Van Helsing's voice deepened slightly as he fingered the chains. "How 'bout a silver stake?" He said bluntly.

His face utterly emotionless, Stephen pulled from his pack both of Van Helsing's pistols, still loaded with silver bullets. He had received them when Van Helsing was disarmed in the square. "Very well." He said flatly, handing one to Carl. The friar swallowed hard as he took the weapon. "God's will, we won't have to use them." Stephen added.

"God's will." Van Helsing said with a nod.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Many many many apologies for this story. I haven't been writing AT ALL on anything. In truth I don't think writing is really for me. I'm going to try and finish this story, and perhaps the others I have posted. But I'm truly no good at writing and I'm not one for finishing stories (obviously). Here is a mini-chapter. I Wrote it a while back and meant to lengthen it before posting, but it's all I have right now and I know it's been forever. I'll try to writ more, but it's hard to get back "into character" after so long a break.

* * *

"And you're sure these will hold."

"No."

Van Helsing stared down at Carl with horror filled eyes. "_What_?"

"Well, it's not like anyone has ever _tried_ transporting a lycan - much less a werepyre before." The friar answered as he locked the second huge manacle onto Van Helsing's right wrist. "You didn't break the chains in the vampire lair, so these chains shouldn't break either. As for the car, or the train... Well, this is the best I could get." He said with a slightly wary half-smile as he then knelt to lock in Van Helsing's ankles. The man above him rolled his eyes and sighted heavily in dismay.

"Are you sure you don't want your jacket?" Stephen asked as he readied the rest of their supplies in the front of the car. Van Helsing stood shirtless in the middle of the car, even though it was below freezing outside.

"I'll be fine." Van Helsing snapped, a bit harsher than he meant it. He simply wanted to get this over with. Still, Carl tried to help him.

"Here." The friar said as he draped a heavy but warm blanket around his friend's shoulders, pulling it as best he could about the chained man's exposed skin.

"Thank you, Carl." Van Helsing said with a rough laugh, his voice holding slight sarcasm, but true thankfulness.

The train would be leaving in a matter of moments, and the sun would set not long after. Re-checking over the chains and their supplies one last time, Carl settled down in the front of the car, and Stephen at the back. Both of them were armed and had their own supplies, but they both had the overwhelming feeling that nothing they could do would truly prepare them for whatever might come that night.

Van Helsing swallowed hard with one more look behind him to Stephen, and then forward to Carl, as the train lurched into motion under his feet. He did not want to admit it, but he was scared. Terrified. Not for himself, but for his friends. He wanted to tell them to leave him, and not endanger themselves. But at the same time, he could not thank them enough for staying by his side.

Both of the friars turned up their two lanterns, as the light of the setting sun grew more and more faint. Soon the small amount of light that sunk into the sealed car had vanished all together. Van Helsing swallowed hard, as the darkness began to take its first toll. A wave of unnatural, freezing cold fear washed over him at the touch of night. Shivering under the large blanket draped on him, he swallowed hard. "Remember..." He said - the first words since their departure - "Whatever happens. Whatever I say or do. Do _not _unchain me until morning's light." He said sternly. Carl nodded quickly, a deep fear settled in his eyes.

For a moment, they sat in silence. Tension high. Until Stephen's voice broke into the dark fringe of night.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me-"

"_Agh_!" Van Helsing's body reeled at the words. His ears rang and his muscles tightened. Stephen stopped short at the scream.

"I'm sorry-" The friar started.

"Read!" Van Helsing reeled in pain. He found that the words, however painful, brought to him a sanity that he had lost at Lucius's deadly bite. As the ringing in his ear dulled, his harsh command turned into a plea. "Please." He said. "Keep reading. Don't stop."

"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want-" Stephen's voice caught once more as Van Helsing cried out again. But he had to keep going. "He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters." Stephen closed his eyes and made the beautiful psalm into a desperate prayer for the man before him, even as Van Helsing's screams echoed in the small room. "He resoreth my soul!" Stephen's voice rose above the screams. "He leadeth me in paths of righteousness, for His name sake."

Across from him, Carl could not speak a word. Gripping the golden cross that hung about his own neck, he prayed silently, wishing there was more he could do. He may have been a friar, but he was a scientist at heart, and it pained him deeply that he had nothing to help his friend.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me." Stephen said again, "Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me."

Even as the friar's words subdued the demon within him, the beast was awakened, as the nearly full moon rose in the dark sky outside his cage.

"Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: Thou annointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over." The words came to him. His muscles once more tightening with unnatural strength, Van Helsing pulled harshly on his chains. The words did nothing to tame the beast in him, but rather raised in his mind the sweet, flowing taste of fresh blood once more. His breath turning into snarls, Van Helsing's eyes burst open once more, as his skin seemed to grow tight and split.

Dark, coarse fur broke through his flesh as Van Helsing pulled madly against his thick chains, howling like a mad man. His wrists were quickly rubbed red, and cut until they bled. And the smell of fresh blood was enough to set the beast into a frenzy.

"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life." Stephen went on as the huge monster before him let out a dark howl of pain and rage. "And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever!" He finished, trying once more to raise his voice so that it might be heard. Each word seemed to hit Van Helsing like a punch. But the pain now only served to spur on the beast.

Van Helsing's head almost touched the ceiling of the small car as his wolven form took him. All human reason and willpower seemed void, as the beast struggled against his chains. Throwing himself from side to side, back and forth, the car rocked dangerously beneath him, and the two friars could only pray that he did not de-rail the entire train, and that the moon's haunting light would be covered soon.

His huge, beastly hands gripping his chains, Van Helsing put up an inhuman fight to escape what he prayed would hold him. His emptied stomach seemed to scream at him, as his deathly appetite took full control. He needed to feed. He needed more than meat now. He needed blood.


End file.
